Earth's University of Precedence

Chapters

Introduction: Part 3 - Noble Introductions
Introduction: Part 4 - The Grand Tour
Introduction: Part 5 - I’m Here
Episode 1: Part 1 - A Perfectly Natural Conversation (Honest!)
Episode 1: Part 2 - First Class of the Year
Episode 1: Part 3 - A Member of Circle
Episode 1: Part 4 - An Offer Unrefusable
Episode 1: Part 5 - A Favour to Ask
Episode 2: Part 1 - A Room Full of Doom, Gloom and Stone
Episode 2: Part 2 - Pierce the Hoof
Episode 2: Part 3 - We Can Talk Later
Introduction: Part 1 - The Arrival
Introduction: Part 2 - A Little Bit of Acknowledgement

Introduction: Part 3 - Noble Introductions

As Nick closes the door to Norma’s office, he clenches a fist as it shakes uncontrollably in a fit of excitement at his acceptance into the university. Knowing that he’s one step closer to reaching his lifetime ambition gives his determination to continue a boost.

After taking a breather to calm down, he turns and walks contently back down the corridor towards the open courtyard. He pushes open the double doors and steps out onto the balcony. He walks up to the corner and peers over the concrete railing down to the garden, draping his arm around the pillar, and examines the terrace.

The garden was naturally square and split into four grassed sections with walkways between them meeting in the middle. In the centre, an intricately designed fountain was placed. It was occupied by two domestic jay birds, one red and the other blue, washing themselves as they chirp in tranquillity. The sparkling water mirrors their colourful feathers off its reflective surface. Watching the birds was a yellow coated pegasus standing a foot away. She appeared to be speaking to the birds in whisper, almost in a trancelike state.

Nick hears the sound of echoing voices and removes his arm from around the pillar. Before long he spots two human students walking along one of the pathways towards the fountain, obnoxiously talking in raised voices to each other. He slowly walks along the balcony near the wall in the hopes they wouldn’t see him and stares through the gaps in the railing. They quieten down when they near the birds. One of them nudges the other and discreetly nods towards the pink maned pegasus. They smirk at each other and walk separately around the fountain, coming to a standstill on either side of the mare.

“Hello, Fluttershy,” one of the two says when in position, his voice echoing throughout the yard, “how’s your wing?” he asks, forcefully prodding her wing uninvitingly.

She quietly screeches in pain as she staggers into the other student. He holds her up, preventing her fall. The birds flee for fear of being injured, flying up through the open roof.

“Still not better, it seems.” The holder says, pushing her up on her hooves. “You should really have someone look at that, right Jason?”

Nick notices her mouth moving, but hears nothing due to the distance between them, as she rubs her wing with her forehoof before tucking it away.

“What, you don’t like our company?” Jason snickers. “We only want to make sure you’re all fine and dandy, right, Ciran?” Ciran nods as Jason prods her again. She flinches. “Or is it ‘cause you fear us?”

“Fluttershy’s always been a weakling.” Ciran joins in. “She never could stand up for herself.”

“Always had your boyfriend, Rainbow Dash, to fight for you.” Jason laughs.

Nick could see her eyes squinting and her body trembling. He was debating whether to step in or not. Her mouth moves again and again he couldn’t hear her.

“What was that?” Ciran retorts. “Speak up, wimp.”

He pushes her into Jason, who pushes her back, and back again. Jason then pushes her with such force that she tumbles, trips over the ledge and lunges into the fountain with a splash. She wallows in a blind panic, splashing water out of the fountain and almost drenching the two bullies who watch her flail. They laugh harshly and remorseless at her embarrassment.

That was it. It was one thing to verbally insult someone, to physically abuse them was a step too far. He had to put a stop to this. He had to intervene.

“Hey!” Nick shouts from above, leaning on the balcony. The two look up to him in surprise. “Leave her alone!” He shouts as loud as his lungs would allow.

“Oh, shit!” Ciran exclaims.

“Quick! Scatter!” Jason yells.

They run in dismay underneath Nick and through a door. Nick sharply exhales at how quick they fled when confronted.

The court now silent, he looks back up at the fountain to find the pegasus was nowhere to be seen. She also fled the scene into the east wing through the north door, leaving a trail of water in her wake. The two jays return to the fountain and resume their singing as if the event had never taken place. He closes his eyes and thinks whether or not he should follow and console her.

He walks across the balcony and enters the corridor which she entered a floor below. Entering the corridor, he instantly turns through another door and steps into a stairwell. Immediately he hears the sound of echoing weeps throughout the perpendicular corridor. He jumps to the corner of the railing and looks down to scan for the pony. There she was, at the bottom of the staircase a floor below, dripping wet, a blue coated pegasus sat beside her. The pegasus had an astonishing mane of five colours which shone conspicuously in comparison to the dull stairwell.

He slowly heads down the steps as quietly as possible, sticking close to the wall. Nearing the two, he notices the rainbow maned pegusi’s foreleg swung around Fluttershy, who held her head in her hooves. He realises she was comforting her and silently kneels down behind them and listens in on their conversation.

“Calm down, Fluttershy,” she gently demands, “and tell me what happened.”

“I can’t, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy sobs, “they...” sniff, “they threatened to hurt me if I,” sniff, “ever told on them.”

“Who did? Who threatened you?”

“I can’t say!” she cries. “I just can’t.”

“Jason, wasn’t it?” Nick interrupts. The two ponies jump at the sound of his voice. They both turn around. “That’s what Ciran called him, right?”

“You witnessed this?” Rainbow Dash asks, disgusted at his sudden appearance.

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He says, ignoring her apparent spitefulness.

“Of course she’s not alright!” Rainbow Dash snaps, jumping to her hooves. “She’s been chronically bullied since she arrived here by your corrupt kind, not to mention that incident with the pegasus race. How is your wing, by the way?” She adds to Fluttershy.

“A little sore, but it’s healing.” She replies, caressing her wing.

“Next time I see Jason I’ll show him what for!” Rainbow Dash exclaims, shaking a hoof. “He’ll think twice about messing with us pegusi!”

“Don’t be stupid, Rainbow Dash.” Fluttershy pleads. “You’ll end up getting expelled.”

“It might be best to inform Norma about his behaviour.” Nick insists.

“We’ve tried,” Fluttershy admits, “but she’s done nothing about it.”

“And we don’t need any assistance from your headmistress, or you.” Rainbow Dash retorts a growl.

“Rainbow Dash!”

“Don’t have a go at me.” Nick says, annoyed at Rainbow Dash’s ignorance. “I’m only trying to help.”

“We don’t need any help from you!” Rainbow Dash repeats herself in a more furious tone. She flaps her wings and hovers in front of him. “So why don’t you just do one!?”

Nick stares Rainbow Dash in her violet embedded eyes, her stare imbued with a fire of furious hatred. He could tell she was too stubborn and foolhardy to accept any support he offers and refuses to hold a grudge.

He raises both his arms in defeat. “Fine. I’ll leave you to it. Hope your little problem works out for you.” He turns to go and Rainbow Dash lands back on the steps.

Nick heads back up the stairs, missing every other step, pulling himself up with the handrail for a quicker ascent. He pushes open the door but hears a gentle request to wait before he’s able to exit. Holding the door open, he turns to find Fluttershy following him up the stairs. She stops a set behind and looks up to him, water still dripping from her coat, mane and tail. He couldn’t tell what were tears or water from the fountain.

“You…”she sniffles, “you’re not one of them, are you?”

Nick stares at her, confused at first but then understanding what she’s inquiring. He doesn’t respond directly, but slowly shakes his head. Giving her nothing more, he turns away and through the doors. He daren’t let his annoyance overtake his vocals lest he regrets what might emerge. Fluttershy recedes back down the stairs to where Rainbow Dash frustrates her anger on her about Jason.

Nick deeply inhales and exhales a sigh to calm him down before turning and heading down the corridor towards Miss Mare’s office. The corridor was more or less a replica of the previous one with varying decorative objects. The doors indicate he’s in the P section of the university with one side rising in numbers and the other lowering.

He makes it to the end and enters the next corridor, stating itself as Q on the board above. A few steps in, he hears a door unclick itself. Emerging from the open door, the purple coated unicorn he was introduced to in Norma’s office slowly reveals herself, her satchel no longer strapped around her. Interested to chat with her, Nick calls to her.

“Twilight!” he hails, favouring a wave.

She looks down the corridor at him and rolls her eyes in disinterest before sitting down on a single seated chair at the opposite side of the door she exited.

“Good morning, Twilight.” Nick greets, standing beside her.

She doesn’t say anything.

“Beautiful weather we’re having.” Nick adds, leaning back against the wall.

No response.

“How’s Celestia’s little stewardess fining with university life?”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgement. He continues, struggling to think of conversion starters.

“So… how’s Celestia been this year? Giving you many tasks to fulfil?”

“First of all,” Twilight annoyingly spouts, turning her head towards him, “I’m not the Princess’ steward, I’m her apprentice. There’s a difference. Second, I have no interest in talking to you. So go away.”

She turns away from him. Taken aback by her bluntness, Nick falls silent as his mind wanders in deep thought as to why she avoids his attempts to converse with her. Coming upon no stable conclusions he decides to ask.

“What’s wrong? Why don’t you want to talk?”

“Because I don’t like you.” She brazenly responds.

“But you don’t know me. How can you dislike someone if you don’t know them?”

“I don’t have to know you. You’re all the same; volatile and disgusting.”

“But…” He begins but the frustration of having no decent discourse with her clogs his mind of relevant thought. Agitated, he says, “You know, with an attitude like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone you come across has reflected your arrogance right back at you. And I’m okay with that.”

She responds with one word in its simplicity.

“Good.”

Nick feels his attitude start to twist and morph into some form of aggression. Before he becomes fully submerged in this emotion he closes his eyes, breaths deeply and imagines himself dancing a minuet with a partner. One, two, three, – one, two, three, they accurately dance in a large ballroom surrounded by other dancers.

Regaining his peaceful state, he closes his mind and enters back into reality completely relaxed and composed. Though this is an excellent means of preventing frustration, it can only exceed so far as proven many a time in the past.

Nick understands that it’s impossible trying to befriend her in her current state of mind so decides to continue his way to finding Miss Mare’s room and make an introduction. He looks across the hall to find the door that Twilight emerged from was the room he needed, Q-13. He walks up to the door without saying a word and knocks.

“Come in!” a voice merrily calls from inside. He twists the knob and enters the room.

Contrary to Norma’s room, this one was bright and full of furniture and decorations. The wallpaper was bright blue with yellow smiling suns arranged in peculiar patterns and portraits of unfamiliar ponies hang from them. Potted plants were placed in each corner on a yellow carpet stretching across the floor. From the ceiling hung decorative mobiles, dangling across the plain white plaster around a silver oval ceiling lamp. He recognises a few of the mobiles to be dream catchers, its feathers tied to string hanging from hoops blowing ever so slightly in the breeze from response of the door being opened. The desk at the back was remarkably neat but cluttered. The heat was intense too, almost unbearable, as if the radiator had been turned on to its fullest.

The room was occupied by two ponies: one he recognises as Celestia, a large white coated winged unicorn, nearly doubling the size of a full grown mare, bearing the golden crown and peytral of Princess standing at the side of the desk, and the other he guessed to be headmistress for the ponies, a middle aged light brown coated pony sat behind the desk peering over her half-circular spectacles at him. She wears a white collar with a blue tuft around her neck.

“Mistress Mare?” Nick inquires.

“That’s me.” The desk pony responds. “What can I do for you, darling?”

“I’m here to introduce myself, ma’am.” He announces, stepping forward. “My name is Nicholas Galluver. You’ll be seeing me around the university for the next few years.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Galluver.” Miss Mare bows her head.

“And you too.” Nick replies, copying her bowing gesture.

“I trust you don’t need an introduction to Princess Celestia?”

“No I do not.” Nick genuflects, bowing his head out of respect. “It’s an honour to meet you in person, Princess.”

Celestia walks towards him. She stops feet away from him and leans her head forward to take a better look at him. Nick looks up to find her staring into his eyes as if searching for a voice of the soul. She raises her head and walks around him, examining the rest of his self, before returning to her original spot.

“Have we met before?” The Princess asks.

“I’ve been to a few of your public declarations, Princess.” He answers, standing back up. “You may have glanced at me briefly but we’ve never been subjectively introduced.”

“You’re not human are you, Mr. Galluver?” The Princess asks.

“No, Princess, I’m not.” Nick replies, intrigued by her peculiarly timed question. He daren’t keep his alienation a secret from the Princess as she could most likely sense the difference in radiation.

“Have you been given a tour of the area, yet?” Miss Mare asks.

“Not yet, ma’am.” Nick shakes his head.

“Miss Mare,” Celestia formally addresses, “a word.”

“Of course, Princess.” Miss Mare shifts to the edge of her seat.

“Please excuse us.” Celestia says to Nick. He nods.

She walks around the desk and starts whispering to Miss Mare. Nick twists his head, hoping to hear what they were whispering about. Celestia notices his slight movement out of the corner of her eye and turns to face him. He quickly regains his normal stance and pretends to distract himself by looking around. Celestia squints at him before deploying a magical transparent bubble around them, enabling them to converse with each other in private. Disappointed, Nick looks back at the two with anticipation as to what they’re discussing. He sits on a wooden chair by the side of the door and crosses his outstretched legs and awaits their finish.

The conference lasts for a few minutes. Celestia finally withdraws the barrier and the two agree on the same result. Noticing the barrier had disappeared, Nick stands to his feet and steps forward. He glances between the two who stare back at him. Why were they staring at him? What plans did they have in store? He anxiously waits for one to speak.

“Twilight!” Celestia suddenly calls, the potency in her voice enough to skip a heartbeat. The door clicks open and Twilight peers around it. “Come in, Twilight.” Celestia encourages.

Twilight steps into the room, closing the door behind her, and stands at the side of Nick. He gives her a quick glance but she doesn’t return one. Standing on all fours, Twilight stands almost half the size of him as an average mare at best.

“I have a task for you.” Celestia proclaims.

“We’ve come to a decision.” Miss Mare intrudes, hoping to deal the news in a more soothing manner. “We’d like you to give Nicholas a tour of the university and its grounds.”

“What!?” Both Twilight and Nick exclaim in unison.

“You can’t be serious!” Twilight cries.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Nick inquires.

“We stand by our decision.” Celestia declares.

“But Princess…!” Twilight starts, stepping forward, but is cut off by Celestia before she’s able to argue.

“No buts, Twilight.” Celestia thoroughly demands. “You’re showing him around and that’s final.”

Angered by her decision, Twilight steps back to resume her state next to Nick. She looks down, away from Celestia’s gaze and bites her lower lip.

“Trust me,” Celestia continues in a softer tone, “you’ll benefit from this experience.”

“Yes, Princess.” Twilight hisses through gritted teeth.

She turns to leave and exits despite not being dismissed, slamming the door behind her. The mobiles shudder in response and there’s a long silence between the three. Celestia sighs as she turns to Miss Mare.

“I told you she wouldn’t take it well.” Miss Mare says.

“She’ll be mad at me for a while.” Celestia replies. “I think it might be best to cut my visit short and return to New York. I have something I wish to speak to my sister about concerning…” She remembers Nick is still standing there and turns to him. “You’re free to go now, Mr. Galluver.” She authorises. “Enjoy your stay, won’t you?” she adds with a courteous smile.

“Thank you, Princess.” Nick says, bowing. He turns to leave and exits the room, clicking the door shut.

Celestia waits a few seconds before turning back to Miss Mare.

“About what?” Miss Mare asks in curiosity.

“I may have found a solution to help with Twilight’s little issue.” Celestia replies. “I’ll be returning in the first week of the semester to speak with Norma. I just hope she sees reason where Twilight cannot. Otherwise, I may have to find a new apprentice.” She looks back at the closed door. “Don’t make me regret placing my faith in you, Nicholas.” Celestia whispers to herself.

Introduction: Part 4 - The Grand Tour

Stepping onto the corridor, Nick finds Twilight pacing between the walls further down mumbling to herself. He heads towards her with caution.

“Why, of all ponies, am I the one to escort him everywhere?” She mutters. “I don’t see why I have to or why I should. He should find his own way around. I had to. Maybe I should ditch him on some other pony. Let him be their problem.” She shakes her head. “No. Princess Celestia’s given me this task to perform. I can’t ignore the Princess’s orders. The sooner I get it over with, the better.”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do,” Nick interrupts. She stops pacing and looks up, “but it’s Celestia’s decision, so you’ll just have to deal with it for now. I agree with the Princess on one thing, however. I may not know you that well, Twilight, but I too think you’ll benefit from this experience.” He then adds on a more cheerful note, “A bit of human interactivity might be just what you need.”

“Hmph.” Twilight exclaims furiously. “Come on. The sooner we start, the sooner we can finish. And no questions. They‘ll just delay me more than need be.” She scornfully trots past him and down the corridor.

He follows, jogging to catch up to her and walks a step behind. They walk in awkward silence as they exit the first corridor and onto the second. They continue to walk down the corridor and out onto the upper balcony of courtyard to which the silence is broken.

“West, north and east wings,” Twilight says, pointing in the appropriate direction, “and the reception in the south. Room letters start from the first floor in the west wing and work their way to the north and east then onto the second floor starting from the west again.”

“I see, so in a clockwise motion from the ground up.” Nick confirms. “That makes sense, I suppose. Not the way I’d have it, but each to their own.”

“West wing is for your kind, east for us and north for the classrooms.”

Twilight then leads him into the north wing, through the corridor and into the stairwell at the corner of the wing. Through the stairwell echoed hoof- and footsteps as they make their way down the steps. Nick decides to break the ice between them and converse with Twilight in the hopes of massaging this acquainted conduct.

“How long have you been here?” He asks halfway down a set of stairs.

“What did I say about asking questions?” She responds bitterly. Nick opens his mouth to ask her a personal question but decides otherwise and remains silent. After more silent awkwardness, she sighs and finally answers his question. “Three days.”

“Really?” Nick asks, surprised, ignoring her tone. “Only three days?”

“What were you expecting?”

“I’m not sure. I thought, maybe at the very least a month.”

She laughs. “No. I’m not that unfortunate.”

“What do you mean?” he asks confused. “You don’t like it here?”

“It’s…” she pauses, then shakes her head. “Forget it.”

“Oh, come on. We were starting to make progress, having a nice friendly talk. What were you going to say?” Nick asks, compelling her for an answer.

“I said forget it.” She sharply replies in reluctance. “I don’t want to talk about it, especially to you.”

Nick exhales in disappointment. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely. “Forgive my curiosity. I’ll not ask any more questions about you.”

“That’s fine by me.”

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairwell, Twilight opens the unlocked emergency exit and steps out at the back of the university into the shining sun gleaming brightly on the lavish green grass. The sudden brightness blinds them both and they shield their eyes.

“This way.” Twilight instructs after her vision had adjusted to the bright light.

She briskly walks up the eastern path with Nick following behind. Looking away from the main building, a small playground was being swamped with the younger students of the university. They joyfully laugh and scream in excitement and pleasure as they run, slide and swing within and around the recreational area.

Looking along the path Twilight leads him down, he notices large separate sections cut off by wooden fences. Within the boundaries were people and ponies dressed in distinguishable overalls carrying tools and tending to the livestock housed within. Among the workers were common farm animals consisting of chickens, pigs, sheep and cattle, each receiving their own section of abundant terrain for their own luxury.

The majority of the labourers were working extremely hard to keep the land organised and healthy. The latter few appear to be taking a break, taking shelter in the shade of the trees scattered about the various sections and drinking ice-cold fluids. With the tropical weather at the moment, it’s impossible to feel joy for them as sweat flows like rivers from their brows.

“Here are the university’s ranches.” Twilight reveals. “It’s where we produce our own products for consumption and commercial enterprising.”

“Commercial enterprising? You mean selling?” Nick asks. Twilight nods. “What exactly do they sell?”

“Do you have to question everything?” She states. Nick stares at her in disbelief as she starts reeling off the list. “Raw consumables such as meat, beef and chicken along with wool, eggs, milk and leather.”

Nick remains silent.

“The organiser is Timothy Grouds.” She continues, ignorant of his stares. “He’s also the head farmer for the ranch.” Twilight peers through the gaps in the fence. “But I don’t think he’s around now.” She shakes her head in discontent. “You’ll meet him sooner or later.”

As Twilight starts walking away, she’s called by one of the farmers working in the fields. The two look over to find an orange coated pony making her way towards them, trudging through the soggy mud in wellington boots, her blonde mane and tail tied with a red ribbon underneath a light brown cowboy hat shielding her from the sun.

“Hello, Applejack.” She greets as Applejack peers through the gap in the gate. “Surprised to see you here. Shouldn’t you be up at Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Yeah,” Applejack replies as she unlocks the gate and steps outside the boundaries of the field, “but the fellers down at the ranch needed more workers so ah offered to help with the pigs since demand was high.” She adds, pushing the gate shut with her back leg. Her distinct accent a representation of the southern states, somewhere Nick had never been. She glances to Nick who patiently examines her. “Howdy, newcomer.” She greets.

“Morning, Applejack.” Nick returns her welcome, nodding. “I guess an introduction is complimentary. My name’s Nick.”

“Nice to meet ya.” Applejack nods back. “So, what brings ya to the ranch?”

“I’m giving this guy a tour of the university’s grounds.” Twilight answers.

“By order of the Princess.” Nick mimes a salute.

“The Princess?” Applejack responds in surprise. She then lightly taps the side of her head with a muddy boot. “Of course, it’s nearin’ the beginnin’ of the semester. It’ll be ya first year here. Are ya excited? Nervous?”

“More concerned if anything.” Twilight answers hesitantly.

“How’d ya mean?”

“I don’t know. I just feel this isn’t the best place for me to study.”

“Why’s that?” Nick asks.

“Probably because of distractions like you always interfering with my study life!”

“Whoa, take it easy, I meant no offence.”

“Well, I’d best get this tour over with.” She huffs. “The sooner the better.” She walks away without a farewell from Applejack.

With Nick about to follow, Applejack tugs on his shirt and asks him to hold back.

“Ah have a favour to ask.” She tells him. She doesn’t look at him; instead she stares down the path at Twilight marching away. “Ya’ve probably noticed Twilight’s behaviour towards humans. It ain’t exactly…” she pauses, “pleasant - as charmin’ as a Changelin’ - but please don’t dismiss her as another reclusive pony. She’s just really misunderstood and a real friendly mare once ya get to know her.”

“I’m not sure friendliness is in her dictionary.” Nick responds. “Her attitude’s really starting to grind on me.”

“Ya know why she’s like that?” Applejack asks in hope.

“No. Do you?”

Applejack shakes her head. “Just give her a bit of patience, okay?”

“That’s a lot to ask with little to gain.”

“I’m begging you, Nick. Please, just try to get along with her.”

Nick scratches his neck, thinking what to do.

“I gotta get back to work. I’ll see ya ‘round, Nick.”

After coming up with an idea, he says, “I’ll think it over. Enjoy your day, Applejack”

They bid each other farewell and go their separate ways. Nick catches up to Twilight who was waiting impatiently further along the path.

“What did she want?” She asks resentfully when he catches up to her.

“Nothing interesting.” Nick responds. “Where to next?” He asks, moving the subject along.

She leads him towards the glass building to the east of the university, up the steps and through the open double glass doors.

The heat immediately hit the two as if they had just entered an active volcano. As if outside wasn’t hot enough, the inside was sweltering in comparison. The hall was nearly full of students seated at tables. The noise was quiet considering how many students were seated. The heat was probably getting to them.

The structure was held up by stone pillars on the outskirts. Between each pillar were large pieces of dark tinted glass, by which looking through shows the other side dimmed as a result. The roof was solid concrete stabled by two stone pillars in the middle of the canteen, an even distance from each other, with two crosswise rectangular windows at either side of the hall through which light can shine.

A counter built lengthways separates this area with the kitchen. Chefs and cooks could be seen frantically running back and forth behind it.

Twilight stands in the middle of the rectangular building, turns her back to the kitchen and announces its obvious purpose.

“This is the cafeteria.” She states. “It’s where students come to eat if they can’t cook themselves. As you can tell, it’s split into two section: the public area,” she turns to face the kitchen and points to it, “and the kitchen, behind the counter. I’ll show you to the head chef if she’s in.”

She entices Nick to follow her as she makes her way to the counter. She peers over the counter and looks back and forth around the kitchen. She spots the head chef peering over one of her workers and calls to her.

“Miriam!” She shouts, waving a hoof to grab her attention.

Miriam looks over and gives them a nod. She taps her student on the shoulder and points to the dish while adding extra commands to the cook before heading over.

“Twilight!” She booms in an incredibly thick African accent. “What can a do for you?”

“This is Nick.” Twilight introduces minimally, indicating Nick at her side.

“Ma’am.” Nick bows.

“My, my,” she exclaims, “such respectable manners. It’s hard to believe someone of your qualities to be working here.”

“Huh?” Nick expresses.

“No, Miriam, he’s a student.” Twilight explains.

“Oh, a see. Such a disappointment.” Miriam frowns. “A’d love to stay and chat, but lunch is just about to begin. It’s lovely meeting you, Mr. Nick.” She turns and heads back to her attending her kitchen.

“You too, Miriam.” Nick glances at Twilight. Though curious about her expressing his qualities, he didn’t question it.

“I wonder what she meant by your qualities.” Twilight asks as if reading his mind. She turns to him and he shrugs. “Come on. I want to get out of this heat before I have a stroke.”

She turns to go and Nick follows close behind, but he’s halted by a high pitched screech shouting his name from across the hall. He turns around to find a pink mane and coated pony wearing a white apron and hairnet galloping towards him at high speed.

“Pinkie Pie!” He shouts back in excitement.

Pinkie Pie leaps at him from a distance. He reaches out to catch her. She falls into him and they both tumble to the ground laughing in hysterics. The two hug each other passionately as watchful eyes gaze upon them from the surrounding tables. Twilight rolls her eyes, unamused at the jubilant reunion.

“It’s great to see you again, Nick!” Pinkie Pie delightfully squeals as they return to their feet.

“You too, Pinkie. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“I know! It’s been, like, forever!” Pinkie Pie jumps, unable to contain her excitement.

“It really has been. I didn’t expect to see you here of all places. It really is a small world.”

“I’ve been here since we lost contact. I’ve been studying under Mr. and Mrs. Cake as an apprentice baker.”

“What about your dream of becoming a party organiser?”

“I’m getting there.” She replies, calming down a little. “It’s mostly birthday parties for the students I organise for the time being. They appreciate the effort I put into my parties. What about you? Are you still studying your music?” She gasps before squealing in excitement. “Are you going to be studying here? YAY! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! We’re gonna have so much FUN together!” She jumps in circles around Nick in pure hyperactive excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Twilight shouts, to which Pinkie Pie halts her bouncing at Nick’s side. “You know this guy?”

“Well, duh!” Pinkie Pie playfully mocks, pulling a face. “We’re best friends.”

“We’ve known each other since before I arrived in the States.” Nick explains, resting a hand on Pinkie Pie’s head and stroking her curly mane. “After arriving in New York, where we’ve evidently stayed since, I tracked Pinkie down.”

“That was the first time I ever saw Nick in person.” Pinkie Pie continues.

“We’ve stayed in touch almost every day.”

“That was until I left home to focus on my career. After that we lost touch with each other.”

“Until today. Looks like our different ambitions brought us together again, eh, Pinkie?” Nick laughs and Pinkie Pie follows.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.” rang a familiar voice from behind them.

Nick turns around to see Rainbow Dash standing alongside Fluttershy, also unamused at his amusement. Twilight steps forward.

“Nick, this is–”

“Rainbow Dash,” he cuts her off, “and Fluttershy. I believe we had the pleasure of meeting beforehand.”

“We did.” Fluttershy quietly confirms.

“If I recall, I never announced myself. My name is Nick.” He bows his head. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Nick? Humph.” Rainbow Dash scoffs. “More like pr-”

“Rainbow Dash! Fluttershy!” Pinkie Pie jumps up between them. “It’s been a while. How is Gummy? Is he alright? Are you feeding him his favourite dessert?”

“Well, h-he’s...”

“Oh, right!” Pinkie Pie abruptly and playfully prods Rainbow Dash in her cheek while explaining her role to Nick; “Rainbow Dash manages the weather around the university,” she then folds a leg around Fluttershy’s neck, “while Fluttershy tends with the university’s pets and local wildlife.”

“I see.” Nick nods, trying to sustain all the information. “That would explain why you could get close to the birds on the fountain.”

Pinkie Pie removes her leg from around Fluttershy with a confused look across her face. “Why do you feel wet?”

“I, uhh...” She hesitates to answer. “I fell in the fountain...”

Pinkie Pie couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the entertaining thought of the situation, which catches the attention of Miriam who looks over and calls to her.

“Pinkie Pie!” She shouts from across the counter. They all look over to her. “Did you finish the job I gave you?”

“Uhm, not yet!” Pinkie Pie shouts back, her voice quavering slightly? “I’ll get right back to it! Sorry, guys, I gotta get back to work. Call me later, Nick.”

She then runs back across the hall and continues her job at collecting the trays and left out cutlery and crockery the students left behind.

“What are you doing with him anyway?” Rainbow Dash asks Twilight. “I thought you hate humans?”

“Hey, now,” Nick interferes, “hate is a bit strong, isn’t it?”

“How does detest fair you?” She replies menacingly.

“For Celestia’s sake, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy quietly intervenes, “just let it go.”

Fluttershy strenuously pushes Rainbow Dash past Nick and Twilight towards the kitchen’s counter to where Rainbow Dash banters with the other ponies as they wait in line to be served. Twilight gives Nick an irritated look.

“Hey,” Nick exclaims, “she has a gratuitous grudge against me.”

“I don’t blame her.” She says in a pitiless tone and turns to exit the cafeteria.

Nick bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from lashing out. He begrudgingly follows her. He knows nothing good will arise continuing this conversation so he throws it all to the back of his mind. It’ll all be over soon, he keeps telling himself.

“Where are we heading next?” He resentfully asks, catching up to her.

“To the markets.” She heaves as she walks down the steps.

She leads him down the path horizontal of the university. Nick peers into the university and finds no sign of Vicky. She must be taking a break.

Walking past the steps, Twilight notices a dark purple coated pony walking towards them followed by a group of younger ponies and stops abruptly. Nick didn’t notice her sudden halt and stumbles into her, almost tripping over. She gives him an aggravated look but quickly replaces it with a friendly smile.

“Hello, miss Cheerilee.” Twilight greets as the group approaches. “Showing the new starters around?”

“Hello, Twilight.” Cheerilee cheerily replies. “And yes. I’ve just finished showing them around the markets. We’re heading over to the canteen for a lunch break.” She turns to her students to address them. “My little ponies,” she says, raising her voice to earn their attention, “this is miss Twilight Sparkle.” She announces, indicating Twilight, without consent. “She studies under the wing of Princess Celestia.” The small crowd utter expressions of amazement. Twilight blushes as they do so. “Miss Sparkle, can you please tell us how you came to end up studying under the Princess?”

“It’s nothing special, really.” Twilight says, declining her reputation. The group look on in interest, as does Nick. She tells her story spreading her gaze over the group. “I’ve always wanted to study alongside the Princess since I was a little filly.” She starts as she recollects her past. “I remember hearing Princess Celestia visiting my hometown one day to find gifted unicorns to be join her private school. Without hesitation I applied for the role. I was accepted with other unicorns who applied, and we were each given individual tasks to perform to prove our control over magic. I was one of the few chosen unicorns that stood out the most from the rest and made it into the school.”

“Weren’t you nervous?” One of the winged fillies asked.

“Of course,” Twilight responds, “I’d never been more anxious. I remember shaking uncontrollably minutes before my trial. It was my biggest wish at the time and I couldn’t bear to see me fail.”

Nick coughs. Twilight turns to him and he discreetly shakes his head to indicate not to discourage the young students. Twilight squints before turning back to the group.

“Anyway,” she says, quickly changing the tone, “I passed my trial, and I quote, “with flying colours,” and became one of Princess Celestia’s best pupils.”

“Wooow!” The group exclaimed in admiration.

“So how did you become the Princess’s apprentice?” A spotted colt asks.

“After being recognised as a superior unicorn to my class-mates, the Princess gave me a trial to perform to see just how far my magic capabilities can go.”

“What was the trial?” A murky blue coated unicorn asked.

“The ultimate trial that won me the place of apprentice was hatching a dragon’s egg.” Twilight proudly answers.

The group once again uttered expressions of awe. Nick tilts his head as if confused, thinking how hard it was to hatch an egg.

“You see what you can accomplish if you try your very best?” Cheerilee asks her group.

Nick then stepped in. “How was hatching an egg difficult exactly?”

Twilight turns to him and stares with utter loathe.

“Yeah, how miss Sparkle?” A purple coated filly asks.

She shimmies her eyes back to the watchful group.

“I’ll tell you.” She says through gritted teeth, masking her irritation directed at Nick for his attempt to demean her in her moment of pride. “It was a newly laid egg, merely weeks old. To simply break it open would cause the hatchling to be unborn. Not only is it essential to hatch the egg, but it’s mandatory to keep the hatchling intact as its being hatched. That is the trickiest part. Without the perfect magic capabilities, the poor creature could very well become stillborn.”

“I see,” Nick says, speechless. “A premature hatch. That’s actually quite impressive. I’ll give you props for that.”

“Of course.” Twilight confirms.

“And how has this early-born dragon coped?”

She stares at him blankly and wavers a response. “He turned out fine...”

“Well, fillies and colts?” Cheerilee addresses her group. “Do you understand now that you can accomplish anything if you study hard enough?”

“Yeah!” The group shouts their response before noisily talking amongst themselves.

“Thanks for that little lecture, Twilight.” Cheerilee says. “It’s been enlightening.”

“You’re welcome.” Twilight replies joyfully. “I always enjoy speaking to the foals.”

Cheerilee nods. “Well, I’d best get this group to the mess hall before lunch is over.”

Cheerilee calls to her group and leads them around Twilight and towards the canteen. Twilight smiles to herself as she watches them go. Nick faces her to see the sly grin.

“That was cute.” He says.

“What?”

“The way you spoke to the group about yourself, you sounded like you enjoyed it. It’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since meeting you.”

“Whatever.” She flicks her head, completely changing her attitude, and walks towards the markets with Nick close behind. “I still can’t believe you degraded me in front of the group.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was just curious about your trial - hatching a dragon’s egg - I’ve never heard of such an incredible feat before. Do you want to tell me what you felt during it?”

“Nope.” She resents a scowl.

Nick senses more negativity and falls silent. Everything he’s said was presumably in her interest. He wonders why she bitterly dislikes him so much apart from the fact that he shares identical qualities to humans. It will puzzle him to no end and will probably never know the answer. They enter the marketplace he dejectedly studies the interior to help ease his thoughts.

The building’s structure was pretty much an exact replica of the canteen but built differently to suit its purpose; shaded glass between pillars with windows in the ceiling, with the only difference being that the size is significantly larger. It was also a lot cooler than the canteen, most likely due to the air conditioner circulating air from outside which would explain the constant buzzing heard throughout.

The shops were nothing more than rectangular walk-in stalls incapable of holding more than a few people, and even fewer ponies, at any given time. The stalls were the generic metallic material painted in a variety of colours depending on what each individual stall sold, which gave the place a brighter radiance. Ranging from meat to fish, clothes to perfumes, electronics to toys, the marketplace had everything one could hope to purchase at a reasonably expensive price.

The crowd was as dense as water. They were in and out of stalls constantly, never ceasing. This must be where the majority of the university’s population gather along with tourists and guests, clients and providers. Trying to manoeuvre around them proved difficult.

As they proceed through the crowd, Nick loses sight of Twilight as she disappears into the horde of people and ponies. He calls out for her but the noise level makes it difficult to hear even himself. He pushes his way through the crowd in the hopes of catching her up. He then spots a purple mane in a clothing stall facing a row of hanging clothes and makes his way towards her.

“Twilight!” Nick shouts above the noise. “I thought I lost you for a mo–” He steps inside and the pony drops the leg of a pair of trousers and turns around. “Oh, sorry miss. I mistook you for another Equestrian, someone with a similar mane colour.”

“Well, I never!” The light grey coated unicorn exclaims in an indistinguishably elegant accent. “I’ll have you know my mane-style is quite unique amongst the common rabble and far more defined than the ordinary!”

“Please, calm down, miss.” Nick responds, raising his hands. “It was simply an honest mistake. I’m new to these parts, you see.”

“Well, I suppose I can forgive you since you haven’t heard of me. My name is Rarity.” She announces, raising her hoof off the ground and extending her torso as if posing for a photo shoot. Her radiant vocals reflect the elegance of her appearance.

“Uhh…” Nick shifts his eyes back and forth. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rarity.” He greets, ignoring the random presentation. “My name is Nick.”

“Oh, please,” she waves a hoof, “the pleasure’s all mine.” She pops her head out from the stall and quickly glances up and down the lively aisle before retreating back inside. “Please, come in. I was just about to make some tea. Would you like some?”

“Thanks for the invitation,” Nick says as Rarity holds open an intricately patterned curtain at the back of the stall, “but I’m looking for someone. I’m afraid I’ll have to take up your offer another time.”

“Oh…” She lets the curtain drop. “Well, that’s okay. I probably don’t have time anyway. I’ve got deliveries to make. When it’s ready, that is.” She adds in a raised voice, hinting to the back. She moves to the counter and takes a seat behind it before mumbling, “I don’t see why I can’t give it a whirl.”

“Excuse my boldness, but what do you do?” Nick inquires, leaning on the counter.

“Oh, how rude of me. I see you’re a curious human. I’m studying under a seamstress in the hopes of becoming a professional one myself. In the meantime I work the stall here.”

“So you’re a student too?”

“I suppose that’s one term you could use, yes. I prefer the title of apprentice. It gives off a more mature prominence. No, as far as Mia’s concerned, I’m only a pupil. Apparently I’m ‘incapable’ of sewing human clothes.”

“I see.” Nick looks around the stall. The majority of the clothes were human tops, bottoms and jumpers, both male and female. There were very few pony clothes in the stall which back’s up Rarity’s argument. “Not many Equine outfits in here. Is this where you spend most of your time?”

“Only when I’m not being observed sewing. It’s basically my allowance until I become a world renowned independent fashionista.”

“How’s that working for you?” He urges.

She frowns. “I’ve gotten as far as the borders of the university.”

“That’s something at least, right?” he encourages, cheering her up a bit. “Before you know it you’ll be the most well known fashion designer in New York. Who knows, maybe even the world will know your name.”

Rarity smiles at him. “That’s what I’m aiming for.” She replies. She pauses for a while before saying, “You know, you’re one of few humans I know who’s encouraged me to continue.” She stares at a rogue button that she slides back and forth, resting her head on her other hoof. “No one seems to think I’m capable of making it.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Nick places a hand on her hoof and stops the button the sliding, mostly because it was irritating him. “But you should welcome criticism and become more productive because of it.”

She looks at him with mixed expressions of aggravation and understanding. She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

“It’s easier said than done.” She says, reoccupying herself this time with a pile of leaflets on the counter. “I just can’t bear to see myself–”

She’s cut off before having a chance to explain by a call of her name.

“Rarity?” A high-pitched voice calls from behind the curtain.

“I’m here, Mia!” Rarity shouts back in anger. Without a reply returning, she turns to Nick and says, “I’ll be right back.” She disappears behind the curtain, leaving the stall unsupervised.

Nick nods and moves to the periphery of the stall and watches the people and ponies walking by hoping to notice Twilight amongst them. He leans against the steel frame, folds his arms and overlaps his legs and waits. He didn’t have to wait long until he’d finally been found.

“There you are!” Twilight shouts. “I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been?”

“I’ve been having an intriguing talk with a friendlier Equestrian.” Nick answers when she nears. “Her name’s Rarity. You might want to spend more time with her. Maybe some affection will rub off on you.” Twilight steps into the stall. “Where have you been anyway? You left me in the middle of a crowd.”

“Rarity? Rarity’s here?” Twilight asks, looking around for her.

“She was called to the back.” Nick joins her inside.

Twilight walks towards the curtain but stops near it as she hears raised voices from the gap. She steps forward and places a raised ear up to the curtain.

“Why can’t you take it up?” Twilight hears a muffled Rarity from deep inside. “It’s not like you’re busy this afternoon anyway.”

“I told you, Rarity,” Mia argues back, “it needs to be taken up immediately. Besides, tonight is Sutānaito – Star Night. We have this conversation every month, and every month I tell you it’s an unavoidable event.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just miss it this one time.” Rarity returns in a raised voice. “The shop’s been really busy the past few days and stock has been low. We really need more of those designs if we want to stay ahead in the game.”

“The answer’s no, Rarity.”

“Then let me design something! I have enough ideas to keep us going ‘til next year. Have I not proven myself enough yet?”

“Again, you’re incapable of crafting what needs to be perfection.” There was a short pause before Mia continues. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a great seamstress, Rarity, an excellent and willing apprentice whose talent far exceeds my previous students, but you make so many oblivious mistakes that stop you from forwarding your progress to the real world. Do you remember the last time you tried to sew clothes for a human?”

“That was a one time off, she was asking for a grossly unattractive design pattern that flawed with the rest of the outfit. I thought I might just give it a little more intricacy.”

“That’s not for us to decide. You give what the customer asks for, not to prove your prowess to them. Remember the little mistakes.”

“Just let me prove to you that I can recognise those mistakes and fix them.”

“Stick with what you’re doing now. I’ll give you another chance when I think you’re ready.”

“Ugh, you’re being so stubborn!”

“I’m being stubborn?” Mia shouts back. “How consistent can you be with the same argument? You need to understand your place, young mare…”

Nick then steps beside Twilight. “I think we’d better leave before the whole stall falls apart.”

“Yeah, sounds pretty rough in there.” She replies, turning her head away. “I’ll speak to her later.”

She hastily heads out the stall with Nick close behind.

Rarity emerges from behind the curtain a few minutes later.

“I’m back.” Rarity stressfully says, tightly gripping a plastic bag in her teeth. “I’ve finally received information about that…”

She realises no one’s with her. She crunches down on the handle in anger before sighing in frustrated disappointment. She was about to run her errand when a human enters the stall and begins browsing. She tilts her head in irritation and places the bag under the counter.

“Can I help you, sir?” She asks putting on a friendly smile, masking her annoyance.

He shakes his head. “Just browsing.” He replies as he holds up the sleeve to a jacket.

“Okay. If you need anything, I’ll be at the counter. Just ask me and I’ll do my best to be of assistance.”

The guy nods and continues his browsing. Rarity sits on the stool behind the counter and rests her head in her hoof, staring restlessly at the anticipated customer.

Introduction: Part 5 - I’m Here

“What did you want to speak to Rarity about?” Nick asks Twilight as they exit the cool marketplace back into the scorching heat.

“Nothing to interest you.” She replies.

Nick exhales an irritated sigh.

“You know,” he says, “I don’t know what your problem is, Twilight, but you could at least try to act welcoming. I’ve shown you nothing but respect despite your negative attitude. You’re making this much more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon. I only have one more place I need to show you before we go our separate ways."

She leads him up the path along the west side of the university towards a hedge maze at the north-west corner of the grounds. Students and tourists alike were in and out of the maze like coins at a lucky slot machine. The majority of the enterers were teens, laughing and running breathlessly within and around the maze, messing around with each other.

One of the participants rapidly exits the maze in a fit of laughter and falls to his knees. He raises his arms and shouts to the sky at his accomplishment of exiting the maze before his friends. After regaining his breath, he stands back up and shouts back to his friends still navigating the maze, letting them know he’s the first to make it out. He hears a shout back and waits for them to emerge.

“Over there’s the hedge maze.” Twilight indicates. “Something the students signed a petition for almost two years ago.”

The maze escapee somehow hears Twilight’s voice and turns around to find her walking in his direction followed by Nick. He squints in disbelief before walking towards them.

“Twilight?” He greets when nearing. “I thought you didn’t like the race of men?”

“I don’t, Toby.” Twilight promptly responds. “I’m giving him a tour and that’s it.”

“Ha! Good luck to ya, mate. You must have the patience of a saint to put up with that one.”

“I know.” Nick responds. He clasps his hands together and says, “I’ve tried to cleanse her hatred through various means of tranquillity.” He jokes, before adding more seriously, “It’s really starting to take its toll.”

Toby laughs as Twilight stares at him in discomfort. He holds out his hand.

“Name’s Tobias, but people call me Toby for short.”

“Nick.” He takes his hand and gives it a single firm shake.

“Well, newbie, has Twilight shown ya everything yet?”

Twilight answers his question. “Sweet Apple Acres is the last area.”

“Well, look no further.” He turns and points north-west from the university. Nick follows his gaze up to a field of trees a mile or so away atop a taller hill. “Sweet Apple Acres is over yonder. There’s not much to it. Just a bigger farm than the university’s one, run by the Apple family.”

“Apple family?” Nick inquires.

“Ol’ Granny Smith and her grandkids. If you do ever venture up and over, then be sure to try some of their Sweet Apple Cider. It’s well worth the trip, trust me.”

“I’ll be sure to try it out, thanks.” Nick replies, still oblivious to who the Apples were.

“I wish you were around earlier.” Twilight says. “You could’ve saved me a job.”

Before Toby could respond, one of his friends appears from behind and grabs his waist making him jump. She then begins tickling him as he tries to fight her off in fits of laughter. Nick and Twilight stare awkwardly as they do so.

“For God’s sake, Sophie, stop!” Toby shouts wrestling with her hands. “You know I don’t like being tickled!”

“That’s why I do it.” Sophie says with a smile. She stops her tickling antics and alters her straw sunhat so the ribbon hangs down to the side. She then spots Twilight and her expression changes immediately from a smile to a scowl. “What’s she doing here?” She asks Toby in disinclination.

“That’s none of your business.” Twilight replies with the same attitude.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” She shouts back.

“Sophie, what’s wrong with you?” Toby inquires, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“The sight of her, that’s what’s wrong.” She answers with hatred, overemphatically pointing at Twilight.

“Her?” Twilight repeats, her anger rising.

“You do remember what she did to you, right?”

“I told you, it was an accident.” Toby says, trying to calm her down. “Just forget about it.”

“Who are you calling her?” Twilight steps forward.

“Twilight!”

“Just shut up!” Sophie harshly tells her. “I don’t want to hear that whiny voice of yours.”

“I will bite you, Sophie. I will bite you so hard.”

“Whoa, Twilight, chill.” Nick says, stepping in concerned about a fight breaking loose. But he was too late.

“Come on then, you little shit!” Sophie shouts and lunges forwards towards them, Twilight doing the same immediately afterwards.

Toby quickly reacts by swinging his arm across Sophie’s stomach and holds her from lashing out. She struggles to break free from his grasp, shouting and yelling at him to let her go and flailing like a deflating doll being shaken.

At the same time, Nick pounces on Twilight, forcing her into a headlock. He tightly grips her horn to prevent her from using her magic as he holds his own. She tries to forcibly push her whole body upwards to break free of his hold but proved too demanding.

A crowd now gathering to cheer for both parties, Nick shouts to Toby to get Sophie away from Twilight. With strenuous effort, and the help of a few onlookers, he manages to pull Sophie backwards through the crowd and into the maze out of line of sight of Twilight.

“There, she’s gone.” Nick sternly tells Twilight. “Now calm down.”

He feels her strength weaken as her push recedes.

“All right, let me go!” She says, trying to shake loose and still breathing heavily.

Nick loosens his grip and she breaks free, staggering forward. She gently rubs her horn.

“I think you broke it.” She moans.

“You’ll be fine.” He says, standing to his feet. “I didn’t grip that hard.” Then to the crowd, “Nothing to see here, people. Show’s over. Scat!”

As the crowd slowly begins to disperse, Twilight releases a drawn out sigh. Thankful that nothing serious came from that dispute, but too proud to admit it, she begins slowly walking away.

“What was that all about?” Nick asks, walking by her side.

“Nothing.” She whispers.

“It didn’t look like nothing. It doesn’t take nothing to fire someone up by sight alone. Something must have happened. So what did?”

“Just forget it.” She says, her fury slowly rising.

“You almost lost it back there. I’m not going to forget it that easily. Tell me what happened so I can understand.”

“I said forget it!” She shouts.

She quickly breaks into a gallop, leaving Nick standing in her dust. He watches her disappear behind the corner of the building. He rubs the side of his face in despair, unknowing if she’ll be all right alone.

One of the onlookers comes over to assure he’s okay. He tells them he’s fine, breathing deeply and showing a benevolent smile. The stranger nods and walks away, giving him some space. He turns his head up into the sky to see that the sun is just past midday, slowly heading to the western horizon.

Not wanting to dwell on the event for too long, he decides to escape the heat and enter the building, maybe see if Vicky’s returned to the reception. He walks a few steps towards the entrance of the university when a vibration in his pocket startles him and he stops in place. He places his hand on it, wondering what it was. Then he remembers he placed the touchpad that Norma gave him in it. He reaches inside and removes the small pad. He extends it by its metal tips and opens its main screen. A small exclamation mark bounces restlessly in the top right corner of the screen. He taps the notification and a text message pops up on the screen. The blurred characters give him a hard time reading it, and the glare from the sun doesn’t help either. He heads into the shadow of the university and begins extending and withdrawing his arm and, holding it at a distance with which he can read it, begins to.

“Dear Mr. Galluver,” it reads, “we sincerely thank you for accepting us as your university of choice to further your education of MUSIC TECHNOLOGY. We anticipate your stay with us to be a delightful and memorable time in your prolific future. You are now able to move into apartment C-32 on the FIRST FLOOR located in the WEST WING of the university. We once again hope you enjoy your stay with us and thank you for choosing the University of Earth. Edward Hook - Head Principal.”

“First floor.” Nick repeats. He reminds himself that Americans use a different style of floor naming, having the first floor on ground level. “I’ll never get used to that.”

He minimises the pad and places it back in his pocket. He re-emerges from the shade and follows the dirt trail to the back of the university and enters through the emergency doors at the north-western corner, entering the stairwell. He heads through the door directly ahead of him and steps into the corridor. He glances at the door numbers and finds himself in the D section. He power walks through the corridor and out into the inner courtyard. He enters the corridor through the doors to his right and finds himself on his designated corridor.

He walks down the corridor to find his room a few doors away from the entrance he walked through. He grabs the levered handle and pushes down on it. He tries to push open the door but it seems jammed. He tries again with more force. Nothing. He tries again and again, hoping in vane that it would open with every attempt ending in failure.

He reluctantly releases the handle, steps back and stares at the door.

“You have to use your thumb.” A voice told him.

He jumps at the sudden appearance of a young girl standing eerily in the middle of the corridor with her hands behind her back, swaying back and forth from her toes to her heels.

He relieves a sigh, saying, “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Jessica.”

“On the pad.” She says, staring at the little black square underneath the handle where the keyhole should be. “You’re welcome.” She giggles before skipping past him down the corridor and dematerialising through one of the apartment doors.

Nick raises his thumb and stares at it. He places it on the black grid and it begins scanning. The lock quietly beeps and the sound of unlocking comes from the door. Nick releases a sharp laugh as he removes his thumb.

“I can always count on Jessica whenever the need seems fit.”

He opens the door with no trouble and enters his apartment. Like Norma and Mare’s offices, the room is a lot larger on the inside than it appears on the outside but once again stylized differently to suit the purpose of the owner. Nick’s apartment consists of four areas: the living area, the kitchen, the bathroom and the bedroom, all fully furnished and ready to be accommodated. Giving himself a quick tour of the place, he checks each room to gather his bearings.

Closing the door behind him, he immediately enters the living area stretching to the right. The white cushioned sofa sits in the middle of the room, facing the thin television hanging on the protruding wall, and doubles as a makeshift bed for guests. Two peculiarly designed glass side tables have been placed at either side occupied with modern wireless lamps, a silver painted crystal dragon statuette sits on one of the glass tables. Two paintings hang on the wall at either side of the T.V., one of a vase littered with yellow daffodils and the other of playful kittens tormenting a wasp’s nest. The floor is layered with a soft carpet, similar to that in Mare’s office, coloured a dark grey.

Behind the couch was the kitchen. An island counter cuts the kitchen off from the living room leaving one of its sides off for entry. The white freckled countertops reflect perfectly, almost like staring into a mirror. The stainless steel sink, implemented into the counter on the end wall, is so pristine it would glimmer in the moonlight. Underneath and a counter away from the sink a white washing machine was placed under the countertop between cupboards. The basic dark silver fridge-freezer over-towers the counters below at the edge on the back wall. The electrical cooker, placed a counter away from the side of the fridge, had been scrubbed to perfect cleanliness almost as if it was brand new. In the far corner sits a silver toaster next to a microwave positioned diagonally. The tiled flooring had been patterned in a checkerboard fashion, all being over watched by a hanging lantern of glass.

In the opposite corner from the kitchen near the entrance of the apartment was the bathroom. An upright glass shower enclosure stands in the corner with a white enamelled bathtub at its side. On the tiled wall at the side of the shower hangs a handrail for towel placements. On the wall opposite the door sits a porcelain toilet and sink complete with wooden cabinet above, along with a rug below looking snug atop the white vinyl flooring.

Entering the room at the side of the bathroom, the bedroom, Nick finds his rucksack had been placed on the king size bed alongside his neatly folded uniform. He kneels down at the side of the bed and unzips the main pocket on his bag, checking to ensure his belongings are still there. Finding nothing missing, he zips it up and checks the rest of the pockets. He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as everything is still in its rightful place. He glances around the room to uncover its plan.

Across from the bed hangs a large mirror on the wall above a wooden mantelpiece. At either side of the mantel were two shiny bronze pears as decorative objects. Across from the entrance was a small, spacious closet implanted in the wall, easily capable of hanging more than a hundred items of clothing. At the far end corner of the room was a small drawer sitting snugly between the walls. At either side of the bed sits bedside tables, square wooden tops accompanied by a white, cordless telephone next to a desk lamp.

His small tour over, Nick spreads outwards on the bed nudging his bag and uniform out of his way and stretches. He feels the cold steel symbol around his chain slide across his chest and down the side of his neck. He closes his eyes and lays there for a few minutes, thinking about the future he’s so close to achieving; finishing his music technology study, becoming an independent musical producer himself one day, raising enough money to live happily and content, all in the hopes of finding Them. He smiles at these burning desires and positive thoughts.

Then he remembers the promise he made. He sits upright and shimmies over to the telephone. He picks it up and begins dialling the memorable number. He holds it to his ear and waits for the answerer to pick up.

“Hello?” Came the familiar peachy voice from the other side.

“Hello ma. It’s me… I’m here.”

Episode 1: Part 1 - A Perfectly Natural Conversation (Honest!)

It's been three days since Nick arrived at the university. The school year has already started and he has yet to meet his tutor. Because of this, the few free slots in the past few days has provided him with the time to make his apartment his own, placing his personal belongings where he deemed fit. From hanging pictures to placing ornaments, and deciding which drawers should hide which accessories of clothing. Everything he had brought along now had its own place to call home.

It was the end of the second day that Nick found out the new year had started without him, by the kind informant of one of his classmates named Jeremiah. It was that evening he began wondering where his tutor was only to be told she hadn't yet returned from the western wasteland, a vital piece of information Mrs. Hooks had neglected to mention, and that it might be a few more days before they're officially acquainted. He also inquired about her reasoning for going there with which there were multiple replies, none of which seemed to warrant validity. From searching for a specific seedling for medication found only in that deserted section of the world to vacationing out there for meditation. Regardless of the reason, Nick found himself with free slots in his schedule and decided to relax a little before his first class of the day.

Sitting in the shade of the university from the blazing sun, Nick settles down on a bench, places the buds of his earphones within his ears and inserts the plug into his music player. He taps the shuffle icon on the touch screen and hits play. Satisfied with the randomly selected song, Full Sail by Ryan Farish, he leans back on the bench, rests a foot on his knee and watches the western grounds fill with activity as his mind wanders in junction to the music.

However, it wasn't long before he was disturbed. The song hadn't even begun to fade out as Jessica phases through the wall of the university and gathers her senses, looking from side to side. Spotting Nick on the bench, she comically sneaks over to him like a nineteenth century villain and ducks behind his armrest. She slowly lifts her head closer to his ear and scream "BOO!".

He flinches violently and shouts, "Jess!" Passers-by glance in curiosity. He catches their gaze and raises his hand. The onlookers show a grin as they move on with their conversation. He removes his earphones and says to jess, "For Danu's sake, Jess, I wish you wouldn't!"

"I couldn't help it." She laughs, somersaulting over him and landing on the other side of the bench. "You're such an easy prey."

He inhales deeply and releases a sigh. "Where's you been anyway?" He asks, placing one earphone back in. "I haven't seen you since I entered my room."

"I've been looking around, getting used to the grounds." She answers as Nick leans back and resumes his previous position.

"Still?"

"You know I like to thoroughly investigate my surroundings before I settle in. Besides, I've been trying to learn about everyone attending the university, finding out if there are any other Tuathas here."

"And...?"

"Not a single one."

"Are you surprised?"

"Not really." She leans back and copies Nick's positioning. "Just a shame I have to converse with you from now on."

"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment."

She giggles. "That's how I intended it." She scoots along the bench closer to him and leans in. "You know I would never insult you." She nips his cheek.

"Ow!" He cries, rubbing his cheek. "I kinda with you were still looking around."

Jess laughs. "Come on, you love my company."

"Yeah, when you're not physically assaulting me!"

She shrugs. "Well you're no fun. What're you listening to anyway?"

He holds up an earbud and she leans in, placing her head against it to hear the fading of Full Sail. Almost immediately afterwards the next song begins to bless their ears with a piano arrangement of Turning Tables by Adele.

"Huh, I haven't heard this one before." She says with little interest.

"It's an old one." Nick states. "Early twentieth century." She mimes a yawn as she moves her head away from the bud. Nick rolls his eyes as she lays on the bench propping her head on the arm. "Just because it's not traditional doesn't make it bad."

"Did I say anything?"

"You didn't have t-"

"Uh-oh," she says, staring down the path, "plot device at ten o' clock."

Nick looks to his left and searches the crowd of students for what had caught her attention. Being ushered by her Equestrian friend, Victoria, one of the university's receptionists, was making her way towards them. Her eyes were locked with Nick's.

"She's gonna persuade you to sell your soul." Jess says, using her elbows as leverage to lean up. She shouts, "You can't let her have it!"

Nick turns to her, placing a finger to his lips, and tells her, "Shush!"

"Hey, uh... Nick, was it?" The familiar voice of Victoria was heard.

Nick turns to face her as she stands a foot away from the arm of the bench.

"That's me." He answers with a grin. "What can I do for a lovely young lady like yourself?"

"Do you have a minute to talk?" She asks, stepping in front of the bench.

"Of course." Nick takes out his earphone. "You can have all the minutes you need."

"You're such a charmer." She says satirically.

Jess quickly withdraws her laid out feet as Victoria sits on the bench a foot away from Nick, completely oblivious to Jess who was now giving her a daggered look of disgust as she hovers over her shoulder.

"So," Victoria begins, "no beating around the bush. Grace seems to think you're a suitable candidate for me and wants to give you a chance."

"Grace?" Nick asks in confusion.

"Oh, right, you've not met yet."

She points to the orchard coated pony standing a few feet away just within of earshot. Nick looks around to find her standing awkwardly alone in the middle of the path. Startled by the stare, she shows a small grin, lifts up a hoof and slowly waves to him. Nick returns her greeting with a grin and a small wave.

"Grace, huh? She talked you into this?"

Nick turns back to Victoria to find Jess pulling faces at her from over her shoulder.

"Mhmm. Thinks you and I are a perfect's match." She says, oblivious to being demeaned. She looks over his shoulder at Grace. "I don't know what she's thinking to be honest. She won't stop bugging me about it." She looks back at him. "So I've decided-"

Before she could continue, Nick reaches over her shoulder and sharply slaps Jess on the forehead. She staggers back, rubbing her head and groaning in pain. Victoria glances over her shoulder and back to Nick in confusion.

"It was a bee." Nick quickly says.

"Oh." She says. "Well, anyway, I've decided, just to shut her up, to give it a go."

"Give it a go?" He asks. "Are you... are you asking me out on a date?"

"That is, if you want to. "I don't care if you do or don't. You can always tell Grace you're not interested. It'd be a much quicker solution."

"Of course, I'd love to go on a date. Usually I'm the one asking for a date. Not the other way around. It just feels weird."

"What does that mean? Are you saying that women shouldn't asking men out on dates?"

Nick bursts into a hysterical laugh. "What? No, no. That's not what I'm saying at all." He catches his breath. "Where did that even come from?" He asks trying to calm down.

"It's the way you worded it." She says, her hilarity running low. "It feels weird." She quotes. "It sounded off."

"I'm sorry," Nick says, "I didn't mean it to come out that way. What I mean, is people don't usually ask me out."

She sighs deeply. "No, it's not your fault. I jump to conclusions too quickly. It's one of my perks, I guess." She pauses for a second before asking, "So, are you free this Friday?"

"This Friday?" He repeats, feigning surprise. "I don't know, it's a bit sudden, I'll have to check my schedule." He pauses as he shifts his eyes upwards. "Friday would be perfect." Nick light-heartedly answers. "Does eight p.m. sound good?"

"Eight'll be perfect." She promptly stands up. "I'll meet you at the entrance. Don't be late." She smirks and holds to her up and wriggles her fingers before walking back down the path towards Grace. "Oh, and by the way," she stops and turns to him. He turns and their gazes interlock, "I like tulips." She winks before turning and continuing her path.

"I'll see you there." Nick calls after her.

He gives both Victoria and Grace a wave as they presumably converse about the event and walk away. Nick produces a smug grin as Jess leans over his lap and watches them disappear around the corner.

"And you still want to date her?" Jess asks as she sits back on the bench. "I don't like her."

"You don't like anyone I meet." Nick responds.

"I have a bad feeling about her." She tells him.

"What do you know about her?"

"Nothing, but..."

"Nothing, exactly." He cuts her off. He looks in her eyes but she looks away. "Look at me." She does so in discontent. "Please don't do this again. Let me make my own judgements, okay?"

"It's not that, Nick. It hurt last time." Jess explains, placing her hands on his knee. "It physically hurt watching you break up with Jayne. I don't ever want to feel that again."

"Jess..." Nick says, speechless. He recalls that fateful day.

It was near the end of the last winter season when he and Jayne had broken up. It was a stupid reason for doing so. She wanted what he could not provide; a child to call her own. He told her that he was unable to impregnate her due to reasons her stupidly neglected to share with her. Thinking he wasn't interested in seeding her, she decided to fertilise herself in another manner. She told Nick about what she had done and he didn't agree with what she'd done without consulting him first. They argued about it before Nick stormed out in a fit of rage. He never saw or heard from her again, but still wished her the best nevertheless.

"I... I never knew." He says, open-mouthed. "You should've told me. You know I'm always here for you."

"You were so stressed, though." She sniffs as a tear rolls down her cheek. "I didn't want to make things worse."

"Don't be stupid, Jess." He places both hands on her shoulders and turns to her face him. "I can take care of myself. If you ever feel you need to talk to me, don't be afraid to. I'll always be here to consolidate you, all right?"

Jess sniffs again and nods in understanding. She wipes the tear from her eye as Nick rubs her head. She shuffles up to him and places her head on his chest as he continues to stroke her.

"Don't ever change." Jess says with a smile.

"Of course." He says. Then he remembers. "I have about half an hour before the next class. How about some music? I know the perfect song to play."

He puts an earphone back in and holds the other one near Jess. He picks up his music player and plays the perfect soothing song to calm her down, Journey to Source by Duke Starwalker, and they listen in silence.

Episode 1: Part 2 - First Class of the Year

“That’s it, time’s up.” Nick says when the song finishes, ending on a soothing note of dripping water.

He lightly taps Jess on the head and she jumps awake. She leans back up, stretching and yawning into effect.

“That was nice.” She says during her yawn. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.”

“Yep.” Nick confirms, switching off his music player.

He wraps his headphones around it and places it back in his pocket. Immediately he hears a whooshing sound occurring every few seconds and scans to the sky to notice Rainbow Dash flying around the university in a blur. He raises a hand and shouts her name as she passes overhead. He knows she heard him because he saw her slow down and glance over her shoulder, so waits for her to retrack. What occurred next happened within a matter of seconds.

She flies straight upwards, high into the sky and grabs a piece of cloud. With the cloud in her outstretched hooves, she falls back to the ground and holds the cloud in the fountain. The cloud soaks up the water like a sponge, turning dark, and she returns to Nick. She places the dark cloud hovering a few feet above him and lands on top of it. She then proceeds to bounce on the cloud as if it were a trampoline, releasing the water trapped inside. The water falls like rain in a thunderstorm and drenches Nick as well as the bench. Jess quickly floats backwards narrowly avoiding the shower while Nick sits there expressionless as his clothes soak up the water like a dishcloth.

After the rain had ceased, an unamused Nick sighs and he rubs his dripping forehead with his dripping hands. Jess laughs hysterically, rolling on her back as she floats in the air. Nick glares at her as Rainbow Dash kicks the cloud back into the sky before performing a backward somersault and landing on the ground in front of him. She stares at him as he rubs the water from his eyes.

“Was there any need for that?” Nick tells Rainbow Dash.

“Yes.” She scowls. “What do you want?”

“Well,” he starts, standing up, “I did want to know how Fluttershy was doing since we last met,” he lifts a leg and shakes it in front of him, shaking off some of the water clinging to it, “but considering she’s friends with you, I can’t imagine her faring well.”

“I don’t have to take that from you!”

She turns to the side and forcefully kicks his knee with her back leg.

“Ow, ow, ow!” He cries out in pain, rubbing his soaking leg and hopping on one foot, his shoes squelching. Jess laughs even harder at his agony. “That hurt!”

“Please, stop!” Jess cries, “I can’t breathe!”

“Good.” Rainbow Dash sneers. “It was supposed to. And for your information, Fluttershy’s doing just fine without your concern.”

“That’s good to hear.” Nick grumbles still rubbing his leg. “Those bullies staying away from her?”

“They better if they know what’s good for them.”

“Now play nice, Dashie.” Says a familiar voice from behind Rainbow Dash. Nick looks up as Rainbow Dash turns around to find Rarity walking towards them under a small, handheld parasol being held aloft by her magic. “Ugh, this heat is really getting to me.” She says, pulling her sparkling sunshades below her line of sight. “I could really go for a cup of iced tea right about now.”

“You could always ask Rainbow Dash to shower you with a raincloud to cool you down. Ow!” She kicks him again in his other knee. “For Danu’s sake, stop kicking me!” He says, rubbing his other leg.

“Is that why you’re all wet?” She asks as she examines him.

“He started it.” Rainbow Dash huffs.

“I called your name,” Nick insists, “how is that starting anything?” He jumps back in fear of being kicked again.

“Knock it off, you two.” Rarity shouts at them before Rainbow Dash could react. “Why don’t we all sit down in the park and drink a nice cold drink and cool off for a bit?”

“I’d love to, but I’ve a class to get to.” Nick answers.

“I can’t, I need to practice.” Rainbow Dash tells her. “Maybe later.”

“Oh, you and your practices.” Rarity puffs. “Why don’t you take a break and relax for a bit?”

“Practice? You call flying around the building practice?”

“Hey!” She shouts, turning to him. “I gotta be in tip top shape to impress the Wonderbolts when they perform next month.” She says, pepping herself up. “I’m gonna perform for them and show them what I’m capable of. They'll be begging me to join their band when they see the stunts I pull off!”

“The Wonderbolts band?” Nick asks, inquisitively. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“That’s typical coming from an uneducated human like you.” She jeers.

“Hey!”

“The Wonderbolts are only THE best flyers in all of America!” She proudly proclaims, unconcerned for Nick’s thoughts. “Did you know they flew the entire eastern coastline in less than a day.” She adds, exciting herself. “Or performed an air show for the crowning of Princess Cadence. And performed as the opening act for Countess Coloratura during the 2209 Summer PopFest.”

“I’ve heard of Countess Coloratura, but not of the Wonderbolts.” Nick says, intrigued by her knowledge for such a group.

“Hmph, typical of someone like you.” She mocks. Nick rolls his eyes as she turns to Rarity and says, “I think I will join you for that drink.” before turning and walking towards the back of the university.

Rarity asks Nick, “Are you sure you won’t join us?”

“Nah,” He says, smiling amusingly, “I don’t think she’ll allow me. Besides, I do actually have a class to attend." He says, clearly taking one last stab at Rainbow Dash. "Another time, perhaps.”

“Oh, okay.” She says, looking disappointed. “See you later, then.” She walks away, her parasol floating behind her and follows Rainbow Dash towards the park.

Nick gives her a sharp flick of the hand goodbye and catches Jess’s beaming face.

“That was hilarious.” She says with a giggle.

“No, it wasn’t.” He says in a deadpan tone, turning and walking away.

She jumps up and hovers beside him. “I think you should see her more often.”

“I don’t think so. Now I have to change into a dry uniform.”

They make their way to the university’s main entrance and enter the reception. A new receptionist was sitting in Victoria’s place, her head resting in her hand as she stares lifelessly out of the open doors envying the sunny day. She obviously noticed Nick when he walked through the doors and quickly covered her mouth with the back of her hand trying to hide her giggles. He notices her movements and his cheeks burn red with embarrassment.

“What’s first?” Jess asks as Nick marches past the reception.

“First,” He sharply says, “I need to change out of these clothes.”

“And after that?”

He shrugs and heads through the doors leading to the inner courtyard. The courtyard was alive with the sound of noisy students echoing throughout, all swishing and swaying past each other trying to make their way to class. He rushes his way through the crowd while they try to avoid his soaking clothes and enters onto the corridor where his room resides. The corridor was also full of students walking the opposite way he was, towards the courtyard, with few flowing against the current. He makes his way to the door of his room and uses the thumb recognition to open it and lets himself in. He closes the door with a click behind him and the noise from the corridor is immediately silenced. He heads for the bedroom while removing his shirt.

“Ah, home sweet home.” Jess remarks after phasing through the closed door, twirling around with her arms outspread.

Nick grins as he opens the door to the bedroom and enters. He throws his shirt in the laundry basket at the bottom of his bed and kicks off his shoes. He opens the door to his closet and removes a uniformed shirt and trousers from the hangers, throwing them onto the bed. He takes out his music player from his pocket and places it on the bedside table. He then proceeds to undo the belt from his bottoms and throws it onto the clothes spread out on the bed. He begins removing his bottoms, during which a wolf whistle sounds in the doorway.

“Take a good look, this is the only ass you’ll ever see.” Nick calls as he wiggles his butt.

“The ass or the ass’s ass?” She responds, giggling.

He chuckles as he throws his bottoms into the basket and grabs the fresh trousers and pulls them on, buttoning them up. He throws on the shirt and ties the belt around his waist before patting himself down.

“There, that feels better.”

He sits on his bed near the pillows and opens the drawer of the bedside table. Within the drawer sits the device Norma had given him on his first day. He removes the device, placing his music player in its place, and turns it on. It flashes briefly and dings before showing the desktop. He taps the schedule icon and a chart showing his weekly classes pop up. Holding it at a suitable distance, he checks his first lesson.

“What’s first?” Jess asks, still hovering in the doorway.

“Well the chart says Symphonic English.” He says sarcastically, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. Her cheeks puff up and she glares at him.

Symphonic English is from what he understands is the given name of the language of symphonic music produced by an orchestral group. He taps the slot and information of the class pops up. All he needs to know is its location, so he taps the room number M23 and the map slides onto the screen. The map shows the first floor of the northern wing on the left-hand side. One of the rooms flashes red to indicate which room the class is taking place in.

He taps the back button and beckons Jess over with a wave of his hand. “Have you seen this?” He asks, holding the device to her.

She floats closer and leans in. “What about it?”

“I only enrolled for an apprenticeship. They have me attending lessons I don’t even care about. I didn’t sign up for this!”

“Ah, I see.” She says, taking a better look at the schedule. “So, what is Symphonic English?”

“Music’s language, which I suppose isn’t that bad.” He explains. “It’s at least one of the few classes somewhat related to the reason for my being here.”

“Hah!” She laughs, prodding he device. “You also got advanced drama afterward. I can imagine you being on stage in a play.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He withdraws the device and turns it off with a beep. He puts on a posh British accent and holds his arms in an operatic position with the device resting on his open palm, saying, “I, madam, am one of the greatest living actors of modern society.” He places the device back in the drawer and closes it. “Well, no point making fun of it. Best get going. I’ll see you later.”

“Uh-huh.” She giggles, floating out of the room.

Nick follows, closing the door behind him. She sits on the sofa and pulls her feet into a laying position as Nick exits his apartment. He closes the door behind him, making sure it locked, and makes his way back into the courtyard, where a few stragglers were making their way out. He makes his way to the staircase and ascends it to the first floor and heads through the doors into the western corridor of the northern wing.

Along the corridor were lines of students, some with their teachers at the front, waiting to enter their classroom. They were younger students, a mix of both races most likely in their first year, and were blocking doors to the other rooms. He makes his way down the corridor and reaches his classroom, also being blocked by a line of students. He excuses himself as he squeezes past and opens the door with a twist.

He is immediately greeted by the activation of an old-fashioned wooden cuckoo clock hanging above the projection screen at the front of the room.

“You’re lucky!” One of the students says as he takes a step inside. The light blue unicorn was sitting on a desk in the middle of a conversation with a dark grey coated pony, wearing a white collar fastened with a pink bowtie, seated on the table’s chair. “Another minute and you’d’ve been locked out!”

“Huh?”

Nick closes the door and immediately the sound of locks was heard from it. He stares confusingly at the unicorn who laughs at his expression. He enters the room making his way towards her.

The room was layered with tables and chairs in rows of three leading to the back, all facing the front. A bookcase occupies the corner at the front with a projector machine in the other corner. At the back of the room sits an old-fashioned blackboard on wheels with a highly detailed drawing of a band playing at a concert hall complete with audience under the title “SYMPHONIC ENGLISH” covering the entire blackboard. Otherwise, the walls were bear; with next to no decoration on them, the baby blue wallpaper cried out for something, anything, to accompany it.

“Hey,” He says, holding out a hand, “name’s Nick.”

“Lyra.” She says, holding out a hoof for him to take. He grabs it and shakes it. “And this is Octavia.”

“Good morning.” She elegantly greets, holding out her hoof which he shakes. Her British accent giving a clear indication of an upper-class.

As he’s shaking, he glances at their Cutie Marks. The unicorn’s he recognises as a golden lyre, and immediately remembers that he’d walked past her before. The regular pony’s is a purple coloured treble clef most commonly used in simplistic sheet music.

“Pleasure to meet you both.” He says with a grin. He releases her hoof, leans on the table across from them and adds, “So, the teacher’s really that strict, huh?”

He hears his name being mentioned and looks over to a small group of three humans and a pony standing around a table a few tables away from where Lyra and Octavia were sitting. Every so often one of them would glance over to Nick, catching their curious eye.

“You have no idea.” Octavia answers.

“But he’s a decent teacher despite that.” Lyra continues. “He’s taught me lots of important information in the past, new techniques I’d have never even thought of if it weren’t for him.”

“I don’t like him.” Octavia interrupts. “I think he’s full of himself. And he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Octavia.”

“Did you see how he humiliated me in front of the class?”

“He was just seeing how well you played your cello.”

“You’re just defending him because he praises you more than anyone else.”

She rubs the back of her neck. “Really?” She says, her cheeks turning peachy. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You play cello?” Nick asks, entering the conversation.

“Yes.” She answers.

“And I play a lyre.” Lyra boasts.

“Electric or acoustic?”

“Acoustic.” Both answer simultaneously

“I didn’t know there was an electric lyre.” Lyra says.

“Yeah,” Octavia confirms, “but it doesn’t sound as good as acoustic.”

“I don’t know,” Nick says, “I think electric sounds just as great.”

“You sound just like my sister.” Octavia smiles.

Before Nick could ask about her sister, the bookshelf in the corner slides open with a grind, revealing a hidden passage in the wall. Immediately the class’s teacher appears from the passage as his white lab coat follows, flowing behind him. He stands behind the counter between the board and the desks and faces his pupils.

“To your seats, everyone!” He orders, stroking his moustache with his thumb. His thick accent clearly indicating his Alaskan descent. “Class has begun!”

The two groups rush to their individual seats behind their desks. The scraping sound of the chairs being dragged fills the classroom for a quick moment before falling back to silence. Nick is left standing out in the open while everyone finds their seats.

Octavia leans in and whispers, “Psst, sit down.”

“And you,” He calls before he’s given time to make a move, glaring at him, leaning on the counter, “must be Nicholas Galluver.”

“Gal-you-ver, sir.”

“Are you going to tell me why you weren’t here yesterday?”

Nick shrugs passively. “It wasn’t in my schedule.”

“Don’t make excuses, young man! I know you were absent and why.”

“But, sir, I…”

“Don’t talk back to me!” He says, pointing a finger at him.

“For God’s sake, just stay quiet.” A whisper was heard from among the group.

“Ngh!”

“See me after class, Nicholas.” He says, standing back straight. “I want a word with you.”

“But I…!” He starts but a sharp, menacing squint from the teacher forces him to decide otherwise. He bites his tongue to prevent himself from speaking out. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Now sit down!”

Nick looks around to find an empty seat at Octavia’s side near the window. He walks over and sits himself down, sighing in despair as he does so. He understands what Octavia meant when she said how strict he was.

“That’s right…” He says under his breath before addressing the class. “As a recap for those who missed yesterday’s introduction,” He begins, clearly indicating Nick as he slowly paces back and forth behind a counter, “my name is Mr Reeds, and as such you will address me as Mr Reeds only. I will be your teacher for this lesson of Symphonic English. What I will teach you is the most advanced knowledge any of you could ever hope to learn from an orchestrated band. Mika, Nicholas, understand?”

“Yes, Mr Reeds.” Mika immediately responds with Nick following suit. He glances over to Mika, a short boy whose greasy black hair looked like it hadn’t felt a drop of water in over a month. His thick spectacles give his indigo tinted eyes vision.

“Good!” He says, walking over to the projector in the corner. “Now, before we waste any more of my valuable time, let’s begin the lesson.” He adds, wheeling the machine out of the corner.

One of the students could be heard gasping in excitement behind the squeaky projector wheels. He aligns the machine in front of the screen and switches it on. It coughs and spurts into life as its gears could be heard churning away.

“I’m going to show you a simple symphony of fifty pieces.” Reeds says as he turns and heads over to the bookshelf. “Just as an idea for what is expected of one.”

Realising the passage was still open, he throws his arms up in anger and forces the bookshelf shut with a slam. He fiddles with the books before pulling one out and opening it up. He flicks the pages, stops on one and removes a compact disc from its pages. He places the book back on the shelf and sticks the cd into the projector, closes the lid and unscrews the lense protector.

The projector projects on the screen an introduction before a small orchestra ensembles on a stage. Once settled, they begin the overture from a late twenty-first century piece titled Joker’s Accompaniment. As they play, Reeds points out what would be interesting facts about each instrument and their importance in the piece had Nick not known these already. But still he listens intently in case new information he could utilise was mentioned.

As Nick listens to the band play, he notices a familiar face playing an upright bass on the far left-hand side. As soon as he recognises who it resembles, Reeds points himself out as the bassist and tells the group to keep an eye on his performance.

As the group stare with anticipation, Reeds as well, a piece of paper neatly folded floats through the air and lands on Nick's desk. He quickly grabs it and hides it in his palm. He glances up to find Reeds still fixated on the screen before discreetly unfolding it. The piece of paper held a handwritten note, stating, ‘Sorry, he’s not usually that harsh’, signed with a patterned heart in the corner.

He hides the note back in his palm and wonders who wrote it. He discreetly looks around the class and makes eye contact with lyra, who grins warmly at him. He shows his appreciation by smirking back and showing a thumbs up. Her grin widens slightly and she faces back to the front. Nick does the same and rests his head in the palm of his hand for the rest of the video.

Episode 1: Part 3 - A Member of Circle

Author's Note

Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait. I hadn't been feeling ethical in continuing after the last chapter and had a lot of personal issues that took my mind away from my hobby, not to mention the recent struggle that this pandemic has brought unto us. But I've recently had a burst of inspiration and, after fixing my schedule to help with all the going ons in my life, I've put aside some time for my hobby. Which means I'll be writing more often and hopefully uploading more than twice a year. I'm sorry for not producing anything since, and in spite of everything I hope the wait or illness hasn't put you off from reading the rest of my story. My only aim is to distract you, the reader, my audience from the current affairs of the world, to bring you into a mindset that's entirely your own with a guiding hand (despite doing a terrible job at it so far...). With that said, I hope you enjoy the chapter and the upcoming ones, whenever they may be. Stay safe, guys. You're the only ones keeping me going on this. Thanks for reading.

Episode 1: Part 3 - A Member of Circle

After what feels like months of video footage projected onto the screen (sorry for the wait), the credits finally roll and Reeds steps out from the darkened corner like an interrogator making his reveal to address his near-unconscious victim.

“Okay,” he begins, wheeling the projection machine back to the corner where it stays for the remainder of the day, “let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention. Can anyone tell me the name of the piece played?” Hands and hooves immediately shoot into the air from the few students within the room. Each were eager to answer the simple question to earn their teacher’s respect. “Mr. Liuk.” Reeds calls out.

“The Joker’s Accompaniment.” Jacob Liuk says with confidence.

“That’s right.” Reeds confirms. “The Joker’s Accompaniment,” he continues, turning on a small microphone buttoned to his shirt with a click. As he spoke, his words were being typed on the board behind him, “was written by Serapheim Nassakis in 2086. It is considered one of the most influential pieces of modern musical history for its use of the then-uncommon instrument the Grantouri as the stage front.” He clicks his microphone. “And how many sections does the Accompaniment include?” He waits to witness hands and hooves once again shoot up. “Miss Heartstrings.”

“Seven,” she says, “with each section lasting eight minutes minimum.”

“Very good.” He says, unable to mask how impressed he is by her understanding of the piece. He clicks the mic. “Lasting just under an hour, it’s far from simple as its verses and solos are directly inspired by late twentieth-century progressive rock music, giving it a unique structure compared to other symphonies of its time and before.” He clicks. “Can you tell me why I have shown it to you today?” He waits for his audience to answer his question.

To his surprise, no hand or hoof rose to the challenge. Instead, after a brief pause, a low murmuring woke among the students as they started asking themselves and each other what the possible answers could be. Luke’s hand slowly rises out of the ambience and Reeds picks him out.

“Is it the obscure use of the saxophone quartet?” He asks.

“Nope.” Reeds says. “I’ll give a hint; it’s about the music itself.” A vague hint, but a hint nonetheless. Once again, whispers and murmurs grew in the room as their answers narrow from the given hint.

Nick, who had been sitting in silence since his arrival, too tries to think of what he could have planned for the group but his thoughts turn him blank. Who could possibly guess the reason Reeds presents the piece to them.

“And here’s me thinking I had a smart group.” Reeds silently remarks. He turns to the screen and writes with an electronic pen in bold capital letters “PHRYGIA” before turning back to the class. “This,” he says, ruling a line under the word, “is the reason I’ve shown you the piece.”

“The Phrygian Scale?”

“Yes. The Phrygian Scale. Is everyone familiar with it?” He scans the room and recognises puzzled expressions across the majority of his pupils.

Nick, finally understanding the reasoning behind Reeds’ thought process, decides to contribute to the discussion, stating, “The entire score is written in the Phrygian Scale.” Heads turn in his direction and he glances over them. Reeds too stares at him with a varied mix of negative expressions. “It’s created by flattening the second note in the scale and is used most commonly in south-eastern Europe.”

“If you want to join the discussion, raise your hand to answer questions.” Reeds says sharply with an undermining tone. Nick rolls his eyes. It’s not much of a debate if you need permission to voice your thoughts. “Is that a problem, Galluver?”

“No, sir, no problem at all.” He thought best if he let the situation slip by without further agitation.

“That’s what I thought.” Reeds says, fulfilling his expression’s feelings, before continuing to talk about the class’s lesson, clicking his mic. “As described by Mr. Galluver,” he gives him a sharp look. Little did he realise, or care for that matter, the board had typed out what he just said, “the Phrygian Scale is a regular scale with a flattened second note.” He turns and writes an A Minor Scale on the screen and flattens the second note, B. He clicks his mic before saying, “This is a Minor Phrygian Scale.” He taps the screen. “What notes do I need to flat to make a Major Phrygian Scale?”

He glares at Nick who flinches at his gaze. A hoof among the group rises, but he holds his stare for another moment before addressing her.

“The third, sixth and seventh note.” Octavia answers.

“Correct.” He turns to flatten the C, F and G notes. “And what does this do exactly?”

Octavia answers again, stating, “It supposedly gives the impression of eeriness and a dark atmosphere.”

“Good.” Reeds says, writing the words “EERY” and “DARK” on the screen. “Now that we understand the basics of Phrygia, let’s see if you can-” Before he can continue their lesson, the cuckoo clock upon the wall chimes and the bird chirps to indicate the end of the class and the door to the room unlocks itself.

Reeds turns to the clock as the room collectively sighs a relief and verbal ambience fills the room. “Guess I shouldn’t have shown the whole video.” He mumbles. He turns to his students standing up and starting to make their routes towards the door. “We’ll continue our lesson on the Phrygian Scale tomorrow.” Reeds says as he pulls out a swivel stool from under his counter and sits on it, throwing the tail of his coat over the back. “For homework, I want you to research and practice the Scale and present to me a minimum one minute of score. The style is your choice.”

He watches his group leave and catches Nick trying to sneak out with them. He calls his name and he stops, wincing at the fact he’s been caught and turns to face him. He notices Mika still sitting at his desk.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To my next class, sir.” He answers. The rest of the class leave and the door clicks shut sounding like the bars in a prison cell at day’s end.

“Not until I have a word with you about your absence. Both of you.” He glances to Mika.

Nick makes his way to the front of the desk as Mika stands from his. As he walks towards the desk with a book in his hand, Mika takes out a gold coin from his trouser pocket and holds it on his finger and thumb. He flicks it into the air, flipping as it ascends and descends. It lands perfectly in his open palm and he stares at it, taking it in, before dropping it back into his pocket and wrapping both hands around the book. His face remains stern and concentrated.

They stand at the desk and await their reprimand. He turns first to Nick.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Mr. Galluver.” He says.

“You have, sir?”

“I have indeed. You’re quite the interesting topic of conversation about Circle. With talk of a prodigy within the musical industry, how can one not bend their ear and ignore it.”

“I’m not for boasting. I simply enjoy music.” He doesn’t question which circle he speaks of as his hunch already knows.

“And yet, here you are.”

“Sir?”

“Coming into my class, acting like a snob cat turning his nose away from the poor-quality food placed within his silver-encrusted bowl, like you’re fifty feet above the common man.”

“You can’t justify that, I think no such thing.” Nick tries, pleading his innocence.

“I can justify whatever I please. I am after all he who teaches.”

Nick throws his arms up in frustration. “What’s any of this got to do with my absence anyway? Wasn’t that your purpose for keeping me behind?”

“Hm, so it is.” He says, leaning back on his stool and folding his arms. It’s clear he had more to say but for whatever reason ended it there. “So, what’s your excuse?”

“Not an excuse, but the truth.”

“And that is?”

“I told you an hour ago, this class isn’t scheduled for that day.”

“Is that so?” He leans forward and unfolds his arms. “And I suppose you have proof?”

Nick fidgets around his trouser pockets for the school device only to remember he left it in the drawer in his bedroom. Thinking fast, he questions his ability to be orderly by asking, “Don’t you have a roster of your classes? You can check for yourself.”

Reeds squints at him. He knows he’s right and despised it. It was the clear expression on his face that gave that away. He waits and Nick for a second thought he was going to question why he didn’t have his schedule with him. Luckily he remains silent as he bends to his side and reaches to open a drawer at the bottom. Nick releases a subtle sigh as he pulls out a thick folder, as he had no laptop, and drops it onto the surface of the desk. He opens it up and flicks through the pages until he comes across the roster with yesterday’s class and runs his finger down the list of students listed alphabetically by last name.

His face puffs as he’s unable to find Nick’s name. He flicks to today and runs his finger again. There was his name, as black and white as the rest. He scans the other days as well to find that he only has Nick one day of the week.

“You seem to be telling the truth.” He says, tongue in cheek. “That still doesn’t excuse your behaviour in class today.” He adds with a smirk. Nick sharply tilts his head back but doesn’t question it further. “However,” Reeds turns his attention to Mika, “I see your name for yesterday, Mr. Arbuckle, and the rest of the week.” He says, tapping his name. Mika abruptly inhales and squeezes his book. “What’s your excuse?”

He hesitates, breathing heavily through his nose. He felt uncomfortable in this predicament, that much is clear, but there was a shallow glint in his eye that was difficult to make out. He blinks and it disappears.

“I…” He begins quietly but struggles to release the words. “I… I was resting.”

“Resting? That’s an unacceptable answer for missing my class.”

Mika lowers his eyes again and turns silent.

“Nothing more to say?”

He shakes his head.

“Very well.” Reeds says, sharply shutting the folder shut. “For punishment both of you will join me in my quarters, tonight at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“For what?” Nick asks as Reeds returns the folder to the drawer.

“For discipline, of course.” He sneers. “We can’t have you bending the rules, now, can we?” Nick opens his mouth, poised to argue his point but feels the time to leave draws near and decides otherwise. Reeds grins upon seeing this and counts it as a victory. “Now leave, I have more important tasks to attend.” He uses the back of his hand to wave them out before spinning around to face and stare at the screen. He retains his smirk as Nick and Mika turn and hurry towards the exit. “And Mr. Arbuckle, I want you in ten minutes earlier tomorrow.” He adds. “No excuses.”

Nick opens the door and exits with Mika following behind. The door closes with a click and the sound of locking mechanisms were heard as it locks itself. The corridor was almost empty, save for a few stragglers heading up and down and a group near the end. They stand there for a second. Nick glances down to Mika still looking at the ground. He decides to lighten the mood and converses with him.

“That guy’s a dick.” He quirkily says. Mika says nothing, still looking down. “You all right? You seem distressed.”

Upon hearing this question, Mika takes out his coin and flicks it. It once again lands perfectly in his palm and he stares at it. Nick watches too with interest. It shows the head of Princess Celestia. He quickly clasps his fingers around the coin to conceal it from view.

“I’m fine.” He says gently.

“What’s with the Bit, anyway?” Nick asks with intrigue.

The Bit, a universal form of current currency used in this time period. Made of gold, silver and bronze, each Bit is worth a different price independent to each country. Converted to American Dollars: 1 Gold Bit would be the equivalent of 1 Dollar, Silver Bits are equivalent to half a Dollar, and Bronze at 1/100th of a Dollar. For example, 50 Bronze Bits is 1 Silver Bit and 100 Bronze Bits can be 1 Gold Bit or 2 Silver Bits. 5 Gold Bits is 5 American Dollars in change and can be utilised if an American 5 Dollar note wasn’t on hand. A 5 Dollar note can be exchanged for 500 Bronze Bits or 50 Silver Bits.

Another interesting detail about the coins is the fact that each coin has a different design on both sides. Each metalled coin has the face of one of the three Princesses of America on the obverse, or head-side; Princess Celestia obviously being the face of the gold coin, while her younger sister, Princess Luna, owns the silver coin and the third princess, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, or Princess Cadence for short, is on the bronze coin. The opposite side varies on where in the world they were manufactured. In the Northern States, the reverse, tail-side, for every coin has a sun similar to that of Princess Celestia’s Cutie Mark which has been dubbed the Sun of Celestia.

Once again, Mika flicks the coin. It lands tail-side up showing the Sun of Celestia.

“Nothing.” He says quickly, dropping the coin back in his pocket. “It’s just a normal Bit. I gotta go.”

He grasps his book and marches away down the corridor, head hanging low. Nick watches as he pushes his way through a group and students, apologising to them and opens the doors at the end and disappears.

“Yeah, me too.” Nick quietly says. He turns and starts walking in the opposite direction from Mika. What was the next lesson again? Oh, that’s right, Advanced Drama. He remembers the corridor, but which number was it?

“O53.” Came a voice from behind him, making him jump.

“Sweet Danu, Jesse, I wish you’d stop doing that!” Nick says, placing a hand on his chest and exhaling.

She laughs. “It’s not my fault you’re a panicky pickle.”

“What?”

“O53.” She repeats, pointing down the corridor. “That way.”

“I know which direction it is.” He says sharply. He continues making his down the corridor and Jesse follows hovering behind.

“What’s up?” She says. “You seem a little annoyed.”

“I’ve just had a bollocking from Reeds.”

“Who?”

“My Symphonic English Teacher. He’s such a dick.”

She flies in front of him, floating backwards. “Want me to deal with him? Sort him out?” She mimes a boxing stance and starts throwing out fists in an erratic manner.

“You’ll do no such thing.” He says sharply. Jesse stops and hovers in place. Nick walks past her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

She hovers back over to him. “It’s okay.”

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought you’d be back upstairs.”

“What, and miss your hilarious attempt at performing theatre? Not a chance!”

“You’ll be disappointed.” He shows a smile.

He turns and opens the double doors and enters the N section of the building. As soon as he enters he’s greeted by two familiar faces loitering in the corridor.

“Hey, it’s Nicholas!” Tobias shouts, waving an arm. “How’s it going?”

He grins and gives a wave.

“Nick?” Sophie says, confused at the greeting. The hat atop her head now sparkling with dangling ribbons of various colour.

“You know, the one who stopped Twilight from hammering you?” He laughs.

“Oh, him!” She says, pointing to him as the pieces fall into place. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘stopped her…’?”

“How is Twilight by the way?” Tobias asks as Nick nears them.

As Nick answers, Jesse slowly hovers around them in circles, examining them both. “Twilight?” He repeats, searching his mind. “Oh, the unicorn. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her since my arrival.” Tobias nods. “And to answer your first question, pissed.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Just had a bollocking from Reeds for not showing up yesterday, despite not being scheduled to. Thinks I’m some sort of ‘snob-cat’ or something.”

Sophie says, “Oh, yeah, Reeds can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”

“A bit?”

“Yeah, he can be much worse than giving out reprimands for B.S. reasons.”

Tobias says, “You would know.” He pokes her and adds to Nick, “She’s had more telling offs than the whole class put together.”

She tuts and swings at him with her hardback schoolbook. He tries to jump away from the attack but is struck on the shoulder.

“Oh? You’re studying music too?”

“She tries.” Tobias quips.

Sophie takes a swing at him again, to which he fully dodges. “I’m not kidding, Toby, lay off!” He laughs carefree as she says, “Yes, I do, but it’s not my main lesson. I’m actually studying agriculture. Tim says I have an aptitude for it.”

“Well, I’m actually late for my next lesson, that being my current one,” Nick says, walking off, “so you’ll have to tell me about it some other time. Later.” He shows a palm to signal farewell.

“Bye.”

“See ya.” Tobias says, before adding, “Now look what you’ve done, you’ve scared him off.” He runs off down the corridor in the opposite direction with Sophie chasing and shouting after him, swinging her book.

Nick grins as their playfulness drives them away. He continues down the corridor, through the doors at the end and into the O corridor. He heads down. Jesse floats to his side.

“What was that about Twilight?” She asks.

“Nothing, just a minor incident involving a stuck-up unicorn.”

“Is it…”

“Yep.” Nick answers before she even starts her question. “The same Twilight that Celestia took under her wing.”

“Ooh.”

“This is the room?”

He points at door O53. Jesse nods as an excited smile forms upon her face. He places his hand on the knob and twists. He opens the door wide and steps inside.

The room was a massive concert hall, capable of seating five thousand chairs, maybe more. The wooden floorboards were shiny in the bright light illuminated from the large tubular lights above. The stage up front was big enough to fit the full cast of Jerremy Baker’s production Barge on the Riverfront, which is almost two hundred people. The backwall was bare and plain save for two studio speakers on stands in either corner and two at the front before the stage.

As soon as he enters he hears an echoing voice reverberating throughout the empty hall accompanied by an ambience of string instruments.

“… to the surrounding fields of Janice. Where the once golden fields are bare and wasted, now…”

Nick looks over to find a large group of students, mostly human, sitting in a rough oval with hands and hooves connecting. Circling them slowly was a tall bodied person, dressed in colourful attire. They were listening intently at the words being spoken from the speaker with their eyes closed and breathing steady as if they were transcending into the dialogue’s plane. They vary in age but don’t seem to pass fourteen. They must be the youth performers and Nick wonders if he entered the wrong room.

The teacher notices him standing there with the door open and halts her movement. She holds a finger to her lips and beckons him to enter, waving her hand to the side before continuing to circle them. He silently closes the door, Jesse squeezes through the gap, and they sit cross-legged on the floor beside it, Jesse floating of course, and waits for the induction to end.

The session continues for another few minutes talking about a ‘time long passed’ and how the lack of animalia disrupts the natural order of land with the overgrowing of foliage before she stops the recording and brings her students back to reality.

“What did we all see?” She asks as they release hands. “What did we all feel?”

“A great sense of calm.” One of the older students answered.

“And warm.” Said another.

“I felt cold.”

“Why was that?” The teacher asks.

“I saw emptiness, like all life was taken away and nothing was left.”

“That must be your future.”

They laugh.

“It’s not funny!”

“Now, children, let’s not forget the reason for this session.” The teacher stands in the middle of the circle to address them all. “This exercise was to understand that different people experience different feelings when given the same direction. When I first heard the story, I felt a great sadness overcome me. I couldn’t explain why at the time. But now I know it was from deep regret.”

“What does any of this have to do with acting though?” Asks one of the students. She was not taking this as seriously as the others.

She answers with a smile as if she had been waiting for this specific question to be asked. “It allows you to know that each role of acting requires a specific skill to play. That you may or may not be the right candidate for the role. It’s not always about the physique of the actor, but can almost be the mindset. But,” she spins elegantly and strikes a pose, “those skills can be taught and acquired given the proper direction.”

“Obviously.” Came a murmur from the circle. What was ‘obvious’ was different for each student.

“Now I have another task for you. See there.” She spins around and points to a large chest-like trunk at the foot of the stage. “In that chest are costumes for each of you. Go and pick out your favourite and throw it on while I have a word with our visitor.”

Before she finishes her sentence, some of the students had stood up and were making their way over to the chest. Others glance over their shoulders to Nick, still sitting and watching carefully. He stands when the teacher graciously strides towards him and towers over him. His neck clicks as he strains to look into her face.

“You must be Mr. Galluver.” He nods. “Well, I’m glad you decided to show before the session’s end.”

“Sorry, I was…” He starts but she holds out a hand and he stops.

“I don’t want to hear it.” She tells him. “What happens between there and here stays between. I expect you to be on time next week. No shenanigans.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He nods but can’t make an impromptu promise as it depends on the mood of Reeds. This class too is a weekly call.

“Now, as you may know, you’ve been assigned to my lesson to help with the production of the musical play I’m teaching the group.” Actually, he didn’t know. As far as Nick was concerned, he thought he was going to be acting alongside his fellow classmates. He had no idea that he had been assigned to help the teacher, of whom had yet to give her name. “Oh, excuse me, I’m afraid I got ahead of myself.” She says with a pat of her forehead, as if reading his thoughts. Her hand was tangled with many rings, sparkling gold adorned with jewels. Nick wonders how she can lift them with the amount she has. “My pupils call me Mistress LeQuil, but since you are neither student nor friend you can call me Quil and consider it an honour.”

“Yes, Ma’- uh, Mistress.” He stutters.

“Now, from what I’ve heard you’re good at making music, correct?” He nods again. “Well, you’ll oversee the production of the soundtrack. I have assigned for you a computer behind the curtain on stage.” Nick looks past her and spots a computer on a wooden desk peeking behind the curtain as if shy about being called. “It’s old, but should suffice.” She adds before she spins and attends to her class who are still fumbling around the chest.

“Well that’s disappointing.” Jesse says.

“I said you would be.” Nick grins. “Now if you don’t mind, I have art to create.” He walks to the stage and up the stairs at the side.

“But I wanted to see you act!”

He examines the computer at the desk with a copy of the script of the musical at the side. His jaw drops as he realises the computer was of ancient make. “What a piece of junk!” He says aloud. Quil gives him a glance. He switches it on and the screen shows a bouncing beach ball as it loads the home screen which takes a few minutes. “Old, my beard. How am I supposed to work with this?”

Jesse hovers over his shoulder and bursts into laughter at the sight of the screen. “Hah, not so cocky now, are you? I’ll leave you to it.” She sinks away, laughing as she phases through the floor and presumably back to their room.

Finally, the screen switches from loading to the minimalistic home screen. He leans over, grabbing the wired mouse, and fiddles with it trying to open the music maker application ‘Tired Eyes’, which isn’t the best and takes a millennium to load. He sits on the chair waiting for the software to start.

As he stares at the screen, he’s approached by a filly but doesn’t notice her until she greets him. “Hi.” She says with a squeak. He looks down to meet her large green eyes.

“Hey, there, little filly.” He returns her greeting with a smile. “What can I do for you?” He recognises her as one of the fillies being shown around by Miss Cheerilee a few days ago, called Sweetie Belle. He also notices her rear end is bare; she has yet to find her special talent and thus hasn’t earned her Cutie Mark.

“Mistress LeQuil told me to give you this.” She holds out a yellow costume draped around her hoof. He takes it from her and holds it in front of him.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” He says, examining the suit. “I’m not even part of the play.” He throws it onto the table over the script and leaves it there.

“You’re not?” Her head tilts. “Why are you here then?”

He tells her Quil explained to him that he’s helping out with the soundtrack. “It’s not a challenge by any means but I guess it’ll keep me busy. For an hour a week.” There was a pause. She looks away and glances around the hall. “Have you been here long?”

She shakes her head. “Only a week. Moved in with my sister. She’s an apprentice seamstress, you know, though says she’s ready to graduate and be professional.”

“A seamstress apprentice, you say?” Nick repeats, the little gears in his head churning. “I met unicorn the day I met you with the same title. Your sister wouldn’t happen to be Rarity, would it?”

“I knew you looked familiar! Yes, Rarity’s my sister.”

With Rarity as the conversation’s leverage, the two of them perform an act of friendly banter for a few minutes. They got to know each other on a friendly level. It wasn’t until Quil called Sweetie Belle to join the rest of her class that she leaves Nick to his work. He turns his attention back to the screen and to Tired Eyes that to his surprise was STILL loading. He tilts his head back and sighs. He glances to his costume and places a hand on it.

“Guess I should see if it fits…”

Episode 1: Part 4 - An Offer Unrefusable

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Episode 1: Part 5 - A Favour to Ask

After leaving Miss Mare’s office, Nick returns to his ongoing lesson of Advanced Drama. He opens the door to find the pupils huddled around Quil as she and they watch the other students one by one and in groups of no more than four attempt their performance on stage. He lets Quil know of his return with a wave of his hand in her view. She turns and recognises his return and places a finger to her lips with clear indication that she was focused. He nods and, despite a blatant look of annoyance from Quil, silently walks up the stage steps and to the computer behind the curtain. Out of view of Quil and most of the students gathered around her, he does not turn on the computer but sits on the chair and watches and observes the student’s routines.

One by one and group by group, they walk on the stage and perform varied skits in front of Quil, who watches with a judgemental gaze and critical thoughts. Each single student performs solo, reciting a section of dialogue of their choosing, while the group act out scenes that are more action oriented. They are judged not only on their acting capabilities and how well the lines are read, but by the section they have chosen and how well they portray the part. After their performance, they are given approval or disapproval by the tutor and a lecture on how to improve their capabilities.

One particular performance stood out to Nick: Sweetie Belle’s. Costumed as a lamb, she gives off a vibrant and significant representation of the Little Lost Lamb early in chapter three. She scans the empty hall and calls out for her master shepherd, giving her all for the role and even sheds a tear for authenticity. Despite not always being able to tell acting apart, Nick could tell by the quality of her voice she was completely focused on her role.

Quil gave away nothing. Her face was deadpan, her movement was minimal, and her eyes were stern. Even during Sweetie Belle’s breakdown as the finale she showed no emotion, but also gave little criticism. Her biggest complaint was Sweetie Belle’s body language, that she was too strict and needed to relax more. “Keep your chin up.” She told her. “A lost sheep needs to show its helplessness, not voice it.”

After all the students perform their part, they remove their costumes and place them back in the chest. Quil continues her lecture, congratulating her group for the performances they gave despite most of them giving an adequate display at best. The praise however did boost even the less-signified student’s moral and they high five and congratulate each other on their first successful audition with Quil.

A few minutes more and the class ends. With a farewell and a final constructive comment from their tutor, the students leave in their groups. Nick stands up about to follow his fellow classmates but was beckoned by Quil with a wriggle of her finger and a sly grin indicating him to come closer. He does so with the expectance of yet more discipline.

For a while she speaks with him like a friend would, or a tutor to another tutor. She talks about the students’ acting and asks to share his thoughts on them. He answers with a hint of indecisiveness, telling her that it is not his place to judge, though he secretively admired Sweetie Belle’s attempts and was sucked in to the world she had believed to be her reality. She pats his shoulder forcefully, the various-sized rings digging into him and no doubt leaving a mark later, and tells him decisions are the world’s reels and that they push novices to apprentices.

She then goes on to state that his removal from class would not affect his due work. He anticipated this and apologises for it. He tells her it was out of his control and that it should not happen again. She tells him not to worry about it so much and that she simply wishes for the score to be finished before the end of the year, which he tells her he can.

She then abruptly changes subject and starts asking questions about his time with the Princess, as if wanting to hear the latest updates to a celebration they were gathering at; why he was summoned, what he was taken for, and the significance of it. He finds her interest in the Princesses curious but shifts it aside as simple admiration. He tells her nothing of what the Princess had discussed with him, that it must remain secret by request of the Princess herself and explains that the situation will not affect his lessons with her or his work on the music for the play, of which she seems to care most about.

She raises one of her eyebrows and rhetorically whispers what plans the Princess had discussed with him. He does not answer, knowing that she was not directly asking him. She tells him she understands, though a little disappointment hung on her words that she was not allowed entry to their secret.

Wanting nothing more, and making it clear, she dismisses him in a hurry. She says she has another class after the lunch break and immediately spins away from him and begins setting up. Nick watches her for a few seconds as she closes the chest and pushes it back under the stage only to drag out another heavier-looking chest before he turns and leaves her to set up.

Outside, he is greeted by waves of students all heading towards the courtyard and presumably to the cafeteria for their well-deserved lunch break. He follows the flow of the crowd through the corridor, out onto the courtyard and down the stairs where he then parts ways and heads back to his room.

In his room, awaiting his return, Jesse is hovering before the window between the kitchen and the bedroom staring out onto the grounds. She turns around when she hears the opening of the door.

“Welcome back.” She says. Nick closes the door and steps into the living room. “I made you some juice.”

She indicates a tall glass of orange coloured juice sitting on the attached counter in the kitchenette which holds orange juice. He thanks her, walks over to the glass and takes a sip. It is still cool, and it slides smoothly down his throat softening his jugular muscles. He sighs in satisfaction.

“How was Drama?” Jesse asks. “Any stars-to-be among the group?”

“I wouldn’t place any bets on it.” He says, lowering the glass and swirling it. “Although that Sweetie Belle has potential.” He takes another swig. “Mm, but do I have a story to tell.”

Her face brightens and her smile beams. She always loved a bit of gossip and was always excited to hear a tale. Nick knew he could trust Jesse to keep secrets but still told her about the promise he made to keep it nothing but. All except one, every secret he ever told her she has succeeded in keeping between her and himself.

She flies onto the sofa and makes herself comfortable and awaits his story. Before he tells his tale, he finishes his drink and leaves the glass on the side. Leaning on the headrest of the sofa, he tells her about the meeting with Celestia in its entirety.

Jesse loved the way Nick told his stories. He spoke in a monotone voice as he tried to recollect the events and, breaking his monotony only with quotes as he tries to mimic their voices. While he could not keep the attention of a young child, his explanations on the details were almost unnecessarily eloquent. The details of his explanations could give anyone whose ears were attentive a clear image of what he witnessed; like listening to a song being repeated, or rewatching a film over and over again. It felt like familiar turf was being tread, as if the listeners were there with him, walking by his side.

A few details of his meeting were left out but others he described in greater detail, keeping the most important ones, beginning with the arrival of Twilight Sparkle taking him to Celestia. Halfway through his presentation he started pacing as he talked his way into Miss Mare’s office where Princesses Celestia and Luna were awaiting his arrival. His thoughts resonated with Jesse’s. She listens intently, eyeing his body language and making few interruptions. The interruptions she did make were from surprise.

Her first interruption was upon hearing him state that both Princesses were together. It was an uncommon visual, but not extraordinary. She states what he already knows; that they are rarely seen together except in the most important conventions. Usually it was singularly Celestia who attended these events as the majority of them were held during the day and her sister would be resting for the coming of night. Rarely were events held in the night, and more often than not they were not as major as those her sister would attend. Jesse asks just how dire the situation was to require the presence of both Princesses, to which he replies with a shrug and carries on.

Her second interruption was after he spoke about his transfer between rooms and being forced to live alongside Twilight. She tells him it gives her shivers. After being told about Twilight’s attitude through Nick’s experiences, she has grown a dislike towards her as thought of a friend let alone a roommate. He emphasises that they will be nothing more than studying partners. Even then, she seemed reluctant.

Nick tells her, “Even if I did want to become friends, I don’t think she’d allow it. That mare’s got some serious issues going against her. Which brings me to why Celestia wants us to study together…”

Her third and final interruption was not of surprise but of another emotion. After she was told about his own personal request that Celestia agreed to help with, she sprung up from the seat. She tells Nick she is disturbed by accepting Celestia’s help without consulting her as a second opinion. She asks if he thinks she would stick to her word. He answers with a nod and a note of confidence.

“Your choice.” She says bleakly. She hops off the seat and floats back in front of the window.

“You have to give her some credit; she is royalty after all. She has many more strings to pull than I to give her an advantage.”

“Including yours?” She responds sharply over her shoulder.

“Don’t act like it’s the end of the world, Jesse. The last thing I need is for you to put a downer on the situation. Anyway…”

He finishes his story while she leans on the wall of the bedroom. She closes her ears and refuses to listen to the end of his story. She lingers on the thought of Celestia helping Nick with his personal plans and stares out of the window.

“I just don’t trust this mare.” She says after a brief silence. “Both of them. They have plans, I can feel it. They’re keeping their cards close to their chests,” then adds in a mumble, “but I can’t figure out why. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would they be so willingly eager to help?”

“You have little trust in anyone nowadays.” Nick says with a light smirk. “It won’t be as bad as you think. Who knows? She might even open herself up to us and you might even get along with her. Even if you don’t, we only have to the end of the academic year anyway. You watch, it’ll fly by, and you’ll be like, ‘Oh, I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye to Twilight so soon’.”

“I have a strong feeling this isn’t going to work out quite as well as you hope.” She says glumly, ignoring his pathetic imitation of her.

They pause for a moment to gather their thoughts. While it is true Jesse has grown more aware of the lack of loyalty in both persons, her feelings have been mostly proven right much to Nick’s discontent. Despite how much he is unwilling to admit it, he too felt he was being taken advantage of. But, once again with the thought of the endgame constantly on his mind, he pushes those thoughts to the farthest reaches of his head. At least for the moment.

He rests on the sofa, sitting on the headrest and watches Jesse. She looks out of the window with folded arms and eyes full of thought. He could tell what was coursing through her head, that this entire situation is a bad idea and Celestia was not to be trusted, but he allows her time to think it through. He allows her to gain an understanding that this is what he needs, or rather desires, and will be a benefit to everybody involved. Hopefully.

After a long thoughtful debate, Jesse finally speaks. “What does Celestia want you to do, exactly?”

“I’m not sure entirely.” He answers. “I think she wants me to change Twilight’s mind towards humanity; show her that they aren’t as bad as she makes believe.” He leans back, stretching out his arms at either side and resting them on the back of the sofa, and looks up at the ceiling. “If that is the case, the question of how remains. What can I bring to the table that Celestia hasn’t already?”

Even now, without proper provocation on what his goal is, he tries to figure out the best and quickest way to earn Celestia’s stamp of approval. He tries to think of the easiest and less arduous ways to change Twilight’s mind. His thoughts return with little quantities, however.

Jesse continues to stare out of the window. She watches the younger students playing outside in the sunshine, chasing each other in and out of the hedge maze and kicking a football between each other. She sighs loudly. “Why can’t you just forget about them? Live your own life without thinking of them? Have a decent job, earn a decent wage. Settle down and have kids, grow old and grey with little worries.”

“You would have me abandon my entire career progress?” He says angrily with a stare of annoyance. One of his personal gripes is being told to forget about his goals, and it is made worse when Jesse tells him this. “Would you have me ignore all my efforts? Burn all my plans? Disregard all I have worked towards? Do you wish for me to live the rest of my life wallowing in endless misery? Do you want me to sustain a feeling of hollowed emptiness forever? Is it so hard for you to accept that this is what I want? What I’ve worked so hard for?”

“No, what I mean is…” She does not finish the sentence and instead pauses. She sighs again and looks up into the bright blue sky. She bites her lip to prevent her from choking. “I don’t know what I mean.”

“I think I do.” He says, calming his voice down. He stands and walks up behind her. “You worry too much.”

“Pfft.”

“No, I’m serious.” He stands behind her and talks to her gently. “You worry too much. I’ve been taking notice and I think it all boils down to one simple fact.”

“Yeah?” She looks over her shoulder at him. “And what’s that?”

“I remember you telling me, years ago, that you don’t like change.” Upon hearing this, she looks back out of the window. “You say you embrace it, but I know you hate it. You’re becoming more and more tense because of it, and it started with the departure from home.” She says nothing and continues to stare out of the window. He hovers a hand on her shoulder. It does not connect, but she feels his touch. “This change will be for the better, Jesse. You just need to loosen up a little. Relax. You need to take some time off and float in the clouds like you used to. Clear your head a little.”

She turns to face him directly. He knew that floating in the clouds was one of her favourite pastimes and it resonated with her. He could feel her heartbeat picking up pace and her face growing a little brighter.

“But…” She starts, but Nick immediately interrupts her by answering her question before she asks it.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles. He takes a step back and adds, “Whatever happened to that book of yours, anyway?”

“I’m working on it!” She answers, placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward. “I’ve just been too busy lately.”

“Busy? With what?”

She wraps her hands around her back and glances away from him. “You know… stuff…”

He folds his arms in amusement. “No, I don’t know. What ‘stuff’ exactly?”

“You know… deity stuff…”

“You’ve been slacking, haven’t you?”

“Humph!” She folds her arms and blows out her cheeks. “I have not been slacking. I told you I’ve been busy.”

His smile widens into a chuckle and he holds up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right, I believe you.” He lowers his hands and points at her. “But you did promise I’d be the first to read it when it’s ready, you know.”

She smiles and nods. “Okay. You win. I’ll float a while before I head out tomorrow. A-and maybe again before I return.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nick says, patting her on the head. Again, it does not connect but she feels its touch. “I think you deserve it. I’ve got to pack, get ready for our departure. I’m receiving a letter tomorrow, from Celestia, with information on where to meet her.”

“A letter?” She makes light of the situation by giggling upon repeating the word. “I haven’t heard that word in years. It’s 2110 and she’s still using letters?”

“I presume she means an email or a direct message.” He heads to his room, opens the door, and enters with Jesse following. “I suggest you start packing your stuff before you leave tomorrow. Preferably tonight. I don’t want you leaving anything behind like you did last time.”

He drags out his rucksack from underneath the bed and throws it onto the sheets with a flop. He unzips the main pocket before stepping towards his closet. He starts removing his shirt and bottoms hanging from the railings and begins folding and rolling them up. He places them into two corresponding piles at the side of the sack, one for each set of clothing.

He walks around his bed to the drawer in the corner and opens it up. He removes his pants and socks from the individual compartments, folds and rolls his pants and ties his socks together, and places them into neat piles at the side of his shirts.

He walks back around and begins to pack, first the bottoms, then the shirts, then the pants and socks. He leaves out one outfit – his uniform and a pair of socks and pants for tomorrow – and zips the sack up. He rests the bag on the seat of the chair near the door, which also hangs his uniform jumper on the back.

He walks back to the top of the bed and sits on it. He pulls out the drawer of the side table and removes the Dushuck (I’m having second thoughts about calling it that now… I’ll come up with something better, I promise) and places it on top of the table to ensure he does not forget about it.

“What lesson you got next?” Jesse asks upon seeing the device.

“It should be three hours with my personal tutor.” He says. He also removes a small coin purse from the table. “But since they’re still absent I’m free for the rest of the day.”

He unclips the purse and rummages his thumb and forefingers inside. From it, he removes a folded American dollar note and three Silver Bits and drops them into his trouser pocket. He places the purse on top of the Dushuck and, with every storage furniture now empty of his clothing, heads back into the living room.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Jesse asks following close behind.

“I think I’ll take a trip to the cafeteria.” He answers. He heads to the exit of his room. “Have some lunch and see what Pinkie Pie’s up to.”

“Pinkie Pie? Pinkie Pie’s here? I haven’t seen her in ages. How’s she doing? Does she still remember me?”

He places a hand on the door handle and turns to face her. “She remembers all of her friends.” He answers with a grin. “Would you like to join me?”

Her smile gleefully widens and she pirouettes towards him. Nick opens the door and she floats out onto the corridor. With him close behind, he closes the door and ensures the lock is functional.

“I’ll see you down there.” Jesse says before phasing through the walls of the building.

He heads down the corridor and pushes his way through the doors and into the lower courtyard. He heads around the outskirt of the courtyard and through the doors leading to the main reception. After giving Grace an acknowledging wave, and a finger flick and wink to Victoria to which she responds with a grin, and walks out of the building.

He steps outside into the direct sunlight. He holds up a hand to shield his eyes. Immediately he spots Jesse entering the cafeteria. He shakes his head, amused by her eagerness, and heads down the steps. He stops on the last step before the dirt path upon hearing a heavy rumbling sound.

He turns to face where the direction of the noise, tilting his hand in suit, and finds the bright golden mane of Applejack underneath her leather hat walking alongside a larger pony coated red with a short, jagged, orange mane and tail. The stallion was pulling a large wooden cart filled with produce and covered with a blanket wrapped tightly around it. Around his neck was a large wooden collar that looked heavier than the stallion himself. Both ponies were on their way towards the cafeteria.

“Nearly there, Big Mac.” Applejack tells him as they near Nick. “Only a few more steps. Then we can finally get some lunch.”

“Hey, little mare.” He greets as they walk by. “How are you?”

“Hello, Nick. I’m good, thanks for asking.” She answers as he walks alongside her. “We’re making a delivery from Sweet Apple Acres to the canteen. They’re running out of carrots.”

“Carrots?” Nick repeats, pulling a face of disgust. “Repulsive things they are.” He glances over her and peers onto the cart. “The entire cart filled with them?”

She looks over the cart and laughs lightly. “That would be a lot of carrots. I’d say about one-third of the cart is a carrot bag. The rest is filler. We try to give them more than they request because they drain them so quickly, and it requires less trips from us.”

“You won’t find me draining your carrots, let me tell you. Besides, what about the farm you were working on the other day?” She tilts her head at him as she figures out what he means. “Don’t they provide for the café’?”

“Oh, that farm.” She says, figuring out he means the farm north-east of the university building. “That farm is run by mostly apprentice farmers, students and volunteers. They don’t produce as much produce as we do up at Sweet Apple Acres, so they tend to ask for help.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” He places his fingers on his forehead and rubs thoroughly. “This might sound a little embarrassing. I recognise your voice, but I can’t recall your name.”

She chuckles light-heartedly. “My name’s Applejack.” She retells him.

“That’s the one.” He says, snapping his fingers before quipping, “I’m surprised you remember my name.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The large cart-puller gruffly interrupts, sharply turning his head in his direction.

Nick is taken aback by his sudden interruption. The stallion is larger than average stallions he had made acquaintances from, ranging a foot and a half above Nick. His voice is as deep and booming as a bass singer in a quartet, which stirred some thoughts in the back of Nick’s mind.

“Steady on, big bro,” Applejack says, “I’m sure he didn’t mean any offence from it.”

“None at all.” Nick says, eager to explain. “It’s simply a matter of being unable to remember names as well as other people, unless they stand out.” He gets another, sharper glance from the cart-puller but not another word was spoken. He continues in elaboration. “I recognise the sound and tone of the voice much easier than names or faces. I recognised your voice, that’s all.”

“Seems reasonable. Wouldn’t you agree, Big Mac?” Applejack says, looking up to him with a grin. He says nothing and continues to effortlessly pull the cart.

“Applejack,” Nick repeats, tapping his forehead. “I’ll remember it next time.” She smiles, and he leans in real close to her and whispers into her ear, “Who’s the big guy?”

“This here’s Big MacIntosh,” Applejack introduces, “but most call him Big Mac. He’s my big brother and runs the farm with me and the rest of the close Apple Family.”

“Good afternoon, Big Mac.” Nick greets with a small wave. “I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. My name’s Nick. Nice to meet you.”

Big Mac hears him but does not entertain his gesture. His face remains focused on the trail ahead. His breathing is steady yet weighted. The large collar around his neck jingles loudly with every heavy hoof step. He responds to his greeting with an elongated nasally huff.

Applejack tells Nick, “Don’t mind him. He’s a little overprotective of his family.” She adds in whisper, “And a little shy.”

“Okay, I get the overprotective part…” Nick whispers back.

“How’re you finding life at the university?” Applejack asks in an attempt to discontinue the subject.

Nick shrugs. “As basic as all the other schools and colleges I’ve been to. They call it a university, but it makes no difference. Advanced lessons and larger commodities, but that’s about it. I have no faith in the tutors so far, and I’ve only had two classes of which both tutors I’m not apprenticed under.”

“That’s not what I meant…” Applejack says under her breath but decides not to correct him and instead comments on his attitude towards the staff. “Don’t be so harsh to judge. There are good people that teach here.”

“Yeah? Well I’ve yet to meet them.” Nick says with a wrinkling of the nose. He pulls his arms over his head and stretches. “Anyway,” He continues, relaxing his arms, “I’m just about to head for some lunch.”

“Us too.” Applejack says as they reach the steps leading up to the entrance of the cafeteria. “Would you like some company?”

“Sure.” Nick says. “I was going to check in on Pinkie Pie anyway, would you mind if she joined?”

“No, not at all. The more the merrier.”

Applejack removes from the back of the cart a small brown paper bag packed with her lunch. She tells Big Mac that she is going for lunch with Nick and asks if he can finish delivering the goods, which he answers with, “Eeyup,” and follows the path down the side of the building. He slowly proceeds around to the back. There, Miriam was awaiting his arrival and, with the help of two underlings, helps with the unloading of the cart.

Applejack tells Nick that she will find them a seat while Nick picks out his lunch. He accepts and grabs a plastic tray from the stand near the entrance as Applejack ventures into the busy hall in search for a free table for them.

He enters the long line leading up to the front of the servicing counter and awaits his turn for service. When the line moves up, he grabs himself a packed sandwich of cheese, lettuce, and tomato and two small bottles of flavoured water, one flavoured raspberry and the other lemon from the display case, and places them all on his tray.

He moves along, sliding his tray on the steel railings as he goes. When he reaches the servicing counter, he is served by none other than Pinkie Pie herself working hard at the till with her mane curled underneath a hair net and an apron wrapped around her chest and underbelly. Hovering above her shoulder, watching her work, was Jesse. She did not notice him until he greeted her.

“Good afternoon, Pinkie.” He greets.

Upon hearing his voice, she looks up and her face beams. “Nick, how are you?” She asks with less enthusiasm than he is used to. She enters his offerings into the till.

“I’m great, thanks for asking. How about you?”

“Tell her I said hi!” Jesse voices loudly from behind her.

“Jesse says hi.” Nick repeats.

“Jesse is here too? Hello, Jesse.” Pinkie Pie greets, turning her head to the opposite side where Jesse was hovering. “How have you been?”

Jesse hovers to where Pinkie Pie was facing and lowers herself to meet her gaze. She floats inches from her face, but Pinkie Pie remains oblivious. “I’ve been fine, thanks for asking.” She answers. “I’ve been told to float in the clouds for a wh-”

“Not now, Jesse.” Nick sharply tells her. Pinkie Pie turns at him. “She says she’s fine.” Nick repeats. Jesse gives him a piercing glance before turning her nose at him and floats away into the kitchen. “Pinkie, do you have a moment to talk? I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, that’ll be one dollar thirty-five, but what did Jesse want?”

“I’ll tell you later.” He hands her the money, which is placed into the register, and he receives his change.

“No you won’t!” Jesse shouts from the kitchen in the back.

“Okay. I’ll finish up here and come join you in a just a moment.”

“Thanks. I’ll be sitting with, Applejack.” He tells her after a two-second pause to remember the name. “Look for the cowboy hat.” He gestures taking off and putting on a hat before turning and scanning the hall in search for the table Applejack sits at.

He spots her hat from amongst the crowd sat at a table in the middle of the hall close to the entrance and heads towards her. As he nears, he notices two other bodies sitting with her: the elaborate hat-wearing Sophie sitting at Applejack’s side, and the murky-haired Mika sitting at the opposite, both of whom have been sitting there since their arrival.

Applejack’s brown bag was placed on the table and was unfolded and tucked in at the bottom, revealing its contents to all who cared. She had already eaten half of a grey-grass sandwich as the crusts were placed overlapping each other inside the torn walls of the bag, and was starting on the second. Beside the bag sat a small carton of apple juice with a straw piercing out of the hole and an unpeeled orange which gave off a slight fruity smell.

Nick places the tray on the table and slides it across the waxed steel surface with a loud squeal, interrupting the conversation between Applejack and Sophie, and sits at Mika’s side.

“It’s okay, just disrupt our conversation halfway through.” Sophie sarcastically says as he manoeuvres the cheap, plastic-base chair around and sits down.

“With pleasure.” Nick says with a sly grin as he pulls himself in, the steel legs screeching on the tiled floor as he does so.

“I couldn’t find a free table.” Applejack explains as Nick grabs one of the bottles and unscrews the lid. “So, I thought we’d sit with Sophie and Mika. You three know each other, right?”

Mika nods as Nick says before taking a sip of his drink, “Not a problem, what are we talking about?”

“Just been telling Sophie about the recent delivery from Sweet Apple Acres.” Applejack answers.

“Ah, the carrots.” Nick says, pulling out his tongue after his swig and screwing the lid back on the bottle.

“He doesn’t like carrots.” Applejack says, exposing his not-very-defined secret to the rest of the group.

“What?” Sophie says in surprise.

“Thanks, Applejack,” Nick says, elaborately throwing a hand in her direction, “why don’t you tell them about my wooden leg as well?” She holds a hoof over her snout and snickers, trying not to spit blades of grass and breadcrumbs over the table.

“How can you not like carrots?” Sophie asks.

“You have a wooden leg?” Mika asks with genuine intrigue hanging on his voice.

“How can you like carrots?” Nick responds. “They’re disgusting.” He glances to Mika. “What?”

“Do you really have a wooden leg?” Mika repeats, trying his hardest not to glance down and look at his legs.

“How can you not?” Sophie says.

“No, it was a joke.” Nick answers.

“Oh.” Mika says with disappointment.

“I mean, I don’t like eating them,” Sophie continues, “I don’t like the crunchy texture, but the smell of freshly picked carrots is gorgeous.” She lifts her nose and sniffs as she imagines herself in the fields early morn to pick only the freshest vegetables. Nick gives her a look of disbelief, while Mika subtly leans away to peer underneath the table for a clearer look at Nick’s legs. “I find it interesting.” She continues through his stare. “The cultivation, I mean.”

“By all means. To each their own.” Nick says before tearing the seal off the sandwich packet and removing one of the triangular-cut slices of bread. “I for one have no interest in the subject.” He takes a bite and adds with a mouthful of satire, “So, please, carry on.”

Sophie squints heavily at him before returning her attention to Applejack. “So, anyway, before we were rudely interrupted.” She shifts her eyes to Nick, who pulls his tongue out at her. “Aren’t your trees ready to bear?”

Applejack gulps, downing a bite from her sandwich. “Not yet.” She shakes her head. “I reckon they still got another week or so before they start blossoming.”

“You think maybe I could help in gathering them?”

“I don’t see no harm in it.”

“Great! I’ll drag Toby to help, too.”

Applejack was about to speak, but Mika unintentionally interrupts her. He flips his Bit and asks, “Can I help too?”

“Of course.” She answers. “I was gonna say, you don’t need to ask to help. We’ll gladly take all the help we can get. It can get pretty hefty doing it all by ourselves.”

“You don’t have volunteers?” Nick asks after finishing his sandwich.

“Um, excuse me?” Came a muffled, almost silent voice at the end of the table.

The four of them look over to find Fluttershy standing at the edge of the table. In her teeth’s grasp was a tray. Upon this tray lay a colourful bowl of a colourful fruit salad with various fruits, such as sliced apples and bananas and individually plucked grapes and raspberries, all peeking over its rim like curious children. On the plate at its side sat a colourful Vegieburger layered with lettuce, onion strips, and tomato slices, and slathered in mayonnaise. In the corner of the tray stood a clear glass filled with white artificially-prepared milk.

“What’s up, Fluttershy?” Applejack asks.

“Everywhere else is full.” She says. The tray bounces wildly as she speaks. The milk in the glass swills aggressively, almost spilling out. “Can I sit with you?”

“Of course.” Nick says, tapping the table at his side. “Pull up a chair and park ‘er up.” He grabs a hold of his chair and slides over slightly, bumping into Mika’s chair and moving him up to make room for her to sit.

“Thanks.” She says.

She ignores Nick’s movement and sits in the empty seat at the opposite side of him beside Applejack. She places the tray on the table and begins tucking into her fruit salad using a curved spoon.

After a short moment of silence, Nick repeats his question to Applejack before Fluttershy showed up. “You don’t have any volunteers to help with your labour?”

“No.” She bluntly answers. “People who come up just like to visit, sometimes purchase a jug of our Sweet Apple Cider. All the hard labour is left up to us; the Apple Family.”

“Why don’t you come along?” Sophie asks. She reaches over and swipes his sealed bottle from the table.

“Hey!”

“Why don’t you help us harvest apples?” She says, unscrewing the sealed lid and taking a large gulp of water. She sprays the water out to her side after realising what flavour it is and wipes her mouth. “Yuck! That’s disgusting.”

Nick grabs the bottle out of her hand, and the lid afterwards and screws it on, and places it out of her reach. “Why don’t you forget about it.”

She scratches her tongue with her nails before continuing. “You and Fluttershy. I think both of you should come. Toby tells me you haven’t been to Sweet Apple Acres yet. It really is a sight to behold up there.”

“I don’t think so.” Nick rushed his answer. “If there are thieves about, I don’t want my apples stolen.”

“I’m happy to help.” Fluttershy says.

“There won’t be any thievery on my land.” Applejack tells them, throwing an orange slice into her mouth. “Though we decided to give permission to pick out a handful of apples to volunteers as payment.”

“I’m happy to help.” Fluttershy repeats, thinking she had not been heard.

“Apples for labour.” Nick repeats. “I like your thinking.”

“I wouldn’t bother asking someone like him.” Came a familiar voice from behind Nick. Nick and Mika turn around to find Rainbow Dash standing in the aisle, chewing noisily on a cookie. Upon seeing her, Mika releases a sharp gasp and looks down and away from her. “His weak arms probably can’t even carry a bucket of apples.”

“Hello, Rainbow Dash.” Sophie and Applejack say simultaneously. Fluttershy smiles at her with a mouthful of Vegie-meat. Nick swivels his chair around for a better view of her and straightens up.

“And a good afternoon to you, too.” Nick says in jest. Mika says nothing and continues looking down.

Rainbow Dash huffs and ignores his greeting and greets the others instead. She pulls forth a chair from the far reaches of the opposite table with her wing and pushes it between Nick and Mika. “Scoot up, Squirt.” She tells Mika, and roughly yet playfully nudges him with a hoof.

He slides his chair across quickly, and Nick does the same, making enough room for her and she flicks her tail through the space between the seat and the head and letting it dangle. Mika sits a little further away from Rainbow Dash than Nick does and keeps her in the corner of his vision.

“What you eating?” Nick asks Rainbow Dash as she takes another bite from the cookie.

“What’s it to you?” She says sharply, spitting bits of cookie over him.

“Play nice, Rainbow.” Applejack tells her as Nick flicks away bits and pieces off of his uniform shirt.

She shifts her eyes to Applejack then back to Nick. “A Cook-hay.” She reluctantly tells him, though indirectly as if telling Applejack.

“A Cook-hay?” Nick repeats.

“A cookie made purely with hay.” Applejack answers.

“It’s delicious.” Fluttershy says.

“I have an extra one if you want it.” Rainbow Dash says to Fluttershy, holding up another cookie sealed in a clear plastic packaging.

“Never tried one.” Nick says as Rainbow Dash slides the cookie across the table to Fluttershy. She takes the cookie and places it at the side of her now-empty bowl for later.

“Tough luck.” Rainbow Dash sneers. “I only bought two.”

“That’s all right.” Nick says with a grin. He pauses for a moment, glancing at the water bottle Sophie had uninvitingly taken and took a swig out of. “Here.” He says, his mischievous grin growing as he slides the bottle over to her. “Why don’t you have this water, a sign of no ill will.”

She looks at him with a stare of disgust. “No!” She blatantly says, sliding it back. “I saw Sophie drinking from it, so no.”

He laughs loudly, grabbing the eyes and ears of the nearby tables. “There’s no fooling you, is there?” He says with a shake the bottle. “Though I hear some spit gives it that extra flavour.”

“That’s disgusting!” Rainbow Dash says.

Mika starts gipping as he imagines someone else’s saliva sliding down his own throat.

“Knock it off, Nick.” Sophie tells him and he backs down. “You’re making Mika uncomfortable.”

“It’s just a bit of fun.” He says as his defence. “No harm in it.”

“Can we please get back to organising next week’s apple harvest?” Sophie pleads.

At that moment, Pinkie Pie jumps to the end of the table at Nick’s side and places her hooves on the surface. “Hey, guys!” She says, greeting the five with a smile as always.

“I guess not.” She ambiently says, tossing a hand and slamming it onto the table.

The rest greet her with high hi’s and hello’s. Mika glances up quickly to figure out who it was before resuming his staring at his lap.

“Sorry for taking so long.” She says to Nick. “It will have to be a quick one. What did you need to speak to me about?”

“That’s not fair!” Jesse shouts from behind Pinkie Pie. Nick looks over her to find Jesse pointing excessively at Rainbow Dash. “She’s already made an appearance in this episode! She can’t make two appearances! Favouritism!”

“Will you stop shouting!” Nick firmly says. The group look at him with confusion except for Pinkie Pie who is used to him talking to Jesse, and Mika who still stares away from the group.

“Who’s shouting?” Rainbow Dash asks, scanning the hall.

Realising what he had done, Nick slowly turns to face her and asks, “What?” in an unconvincing act of distraction.

“I think he means Jesse.” Pinkie Pie obliviously answers her question. Nick quickly faces her and gives her an abrupt stare.

“Who’s Jesse?” Sophie asks.

“Who are you?” Jesse says, flying to her side.

“You don’t know who Jesse is?” Pinkie Pie says, despite Nick’s piercing stare. “Jesse is Nick’s, mmph mph mph…” Nick quickly places a hand over her mouth and muffled her words.

“Isn’t Jesse your, gohb…” Fluttershy tries to continue for her, but Nick forces the head of the water bottle into her mouth.

It is too early to reveal just who Jesse was to his acquaintances. He had told Pinkie Pie before that he wanted to earn the trust and friendship from people before revealing more about himself, but she must have forgotten in the stress of her work.

“You two are too loud for your own good.” Nick tells them both.

They glance between each other and nod as an indication that they understood his thoughts. He slowly removes his hands, and the bottle, from their mouths and they rub their snouts.

Applejack looks on in interest as she tries figuring out his little secret. Sophie voices her thoughts before she could ask them herself.

“Soo, who is Jesse?” Sophie asks, leaning in with intrigue.

Throughout the rest of the conversation, Jesse floats around the table as she examines them and learns from them.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rainbow Dash says with a final gulp of her snack. “She’s Nick’s imaginary friend.” She could not contain a straight face while saying it and burst into giggles.

“An imaginary friend at his age, are you serious, Rainbow?” Sophie asks, giving Rainbow Dash a stare of pure unbelievability.

Nick shrugs and smiles avoidantly. “I guess you figured out my secret.”

“Wait,” Rainbow Dash stops giggling, “are you serious?”

She stares at him, waiting for his answer, but he does not meet it. He shifts his eyes away and nods ever so discreetly. She recognises his slight movement and laughs hysterically. She flaps her wings as she leans backwards and invades Mika’s personal space, who quickly rose from his seat and flew out of the cafeteria with pace without anyone noticing he was gone. Nick figures it is better to be humiliated by a false secret than to be stripped of his identity for advantages and allows himself to fall victim to her amusement.

Applejack rubs her chin, ignoring Rainbow Dash’s outburst, and stares judgingly at Nick. Unlike Fluttershy, who had a vague understanding of who Nick is and what Jesse is to him, she was uncertain of his true characteristics. She had already figured out that there was more to him than he let on but does not know what exactly he is hiding. She decides to play the waiting game and let him unveil more about himself to her when he is ready; despite her displeasure of his dishonesty.

Sophie could care less. Her mind is focused on the task at hand; that is to sit everyone down and talk about next weeks’ plans for the harvesting of apples. It annoys her that no one is taking this as seriously as she is.

Nick turns away from Rainbow Dash and faces Pinkie Pie. To her he reveals his reasonings as to why he had asked for her.

“I have a favour to ask, Pinkie.” He tells her above the noise of Rainbow Dash’s laughter. She faces him for full attention but was unable to keep half an eye off Rainbow Dash. “You see, I have this date this Friday…”

“Ooooo!” The group turn their attention to him. Even Rainbow Dash had her intrigue attained as she sits back straight.

“Shut up!” Nick humorously tells them and turns back to Pinkie Pie. “You think you could help set it up?”

“Of course.” She says. “This is Pinkie Pie you’re talking to; the bestest party pony around the University! Don’t you worry, I’ll set everything up.”

“But remember, Pinkie,” he adds with a serious note, “this is a date, not a party.”

“Of course, I’ll remember.” She glances over her shoulder before adding, “And you’ll spread my good name around if I pull it off?”

“Of course. I was thinking of compensating you as well, but recommending you is the least I can do.”

“Thank you.” She says. “I appreciate it. I got to get back to work. Just leave everything to me. It’ll be a date you’ll never forget!”

“No, thank you for helping me out. I really appreciate it.” And with that, she leaped and trotted back to the counter.

He turns back to his group to find them all staring at them. Except for Mika, whose seat was now empty besides Rainbow Dash.

“So?” Sophie says, leaning further in and in a hushed voice.

“So, what?” He says, oblivious to her eagerness.

“Who’s the unlucky girl you’ve roped into dating you?” Rainbow Dash asks.

“The receptionist.” He answers, ignoring her attempts to trigger him.

“Grace?” Applejack asks, with a tint of confusion in her voice.

“No, Vicky.”

“Victoria?” The three say in shocked unison. Even Fluttershy stares at him in open-mouthed surprise.

“Uh, yeah.” He answers with an awkward smile. The four glance between each other with concerned looks cut deeply in their expressions.

“Eh, that’s not a good sign.” Jesse says, hovering at Nick’s side. “I told you she was trouble.”

“Why?” Nick asks, glancing between the four. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

“You do know she already has a boyfriend, right?” Applejack tells him.

“If you can call him that.” Fluttershy says.

Nick shifts his eyes and slowly shakes his head.

“Does ‘Julian Dréard ring a bell?” Sophie asks. Again, he shakes his head. “Nasty piece of work, he is.” She leans in closer and lowers her voice. “Was given a five-year sentence for the apparent manslaughter of at least two mares.”

“Two mares?” Nick repeats, as shocked as anyone would upon hearing the news.

“I heard it was three.” Applejack says, throwing in her two-pennies’ worth.

“Humans.” Rainbow Dash says, spitting the word as it passed her lips with a pungent taste. “Disgusting.”

“Disgusting indeed.” Fluttershy says, matching Rainbow Dash’s repulse though not for the same reason.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘apparent’?” Nick asks.

“Well,” Sophie starts, “it was never made clear just who killed them. He wasn’t found at the scene of the crime. In fact, he was miles away when the bodies were found. He was at his home with his family and stated that he was with them for the entire month of December; his family backed him up on this.”

“Around Christmas.” Nick confirms, stating the obvious. Sophie Nods. “How did they know it was him?”

Applejack answers this question. “They found something at the crime scene; one crucial piece of evidence that turned all their leads to Julian.” She pauses.

“What was it?” Nick asks eagerly. He waits for her to reveal what was found, but it was Rainbow Dash that interjected.

“It was a glass cat-eye.” She says. “Ripped right out of his own defenceless cat.”

“A cat’s eye?” Nick repeats. His thinking gears were churning away in his head.

“Were it not for that single solitary shard of glass,” Applejack continues, “Julian would still be at large, and still with Victoria.”

“Good riddance.” Rainbow Dash says, waving a hoof. Sophie nods in agreement.

“Nothing’s been heard from him since.” Sophie says.

“I hear they still keep in touch.” Fluttershy adds.

Nick glances between them. “Why are you telling me this?”

“So you know what you’re getting yourself into if Julian is set free.” Sophie answers.

“Which is inevitable.” Applejack says. “If you do ever run into Julian, just be careful.”

“Pfft.” He waves his hand at them all. “I’m not going to be easily intimidated by someone I’ve never heard of. If anything, he should be careful of me.” He shows an almost maniacal smile. “I will not be so easily pushed aside.”

They sit in ambient silence for a moment. The worrying atmosphere of the conversation had drowned their enthusiasm and they were struggling to bring it back up to the surface.

Sophie realised now that Mika had grown quiet and looks over to find his seat empty. “Hey, where’s Mika?” She asks upon noticing the empty seat beside Rainbow Dash. The group look over and begin glancing around the hall but find no sign of him. “Damn. I’ll have to explain to him later when… oh, right!” She snaps her fingers. “The apple harvest! I almost forgot.” The group voice their thoughts that they too had forgotten about the apple harvesting by all the distractions. “Can we please focus on it now? I’ll have to tell Mika later, and Toby too.”

The group nods. They lean in and focus all their attention on Applejack’s arrangements on when the apple harvesting season will begin. She specifies a day for the next week and states they are needed in at first light. They are told to meet at the farmhouse at Sweet Apple Acres and will start with or without a full group. They all agree to the terms and place their hands together, binding a promise.

Episode 2: Part 1 - A Room Full of Doom, Gloom and Stone

Author's Note

We're getting there, slowly but surely we're getting there.

Edit as of 7/9/21 - Made clearer which direction room N42 is facing.

Episode 2: Part 1 - A Room Full of Doom, Gloom and Stone

Episode 2:

Part 1 – A Room Full of Doom, Gloom and Stone

“Nick!” Jesse repeats loudly. “Wake up!” He jolts up and shoots awake. He is not used to being woken so abruptly before his alarm. “Someone’s at the door. You need to answer it.”

He leans back, gathers his senses, and stretches and yawns out of his deep-sleep dream. He had been dreaming in his secret place, sitting on his favourite rock, thinking of Celestia’s plan of staying with Twilight as a roommate. He recalls the rest of the previous day which went by somewhat uneventful.

Nick and Jesse, along with Sophie and Applejack, left Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy in the cafeteria. They were in high spirits after their prearranged apple picking activity was set. Applejack departed, bidding the others a kind farewell. She disappeared back to her Sweet Apple Acres, followed not long behind by her older brother pulling the empty cart. The rest headed towards the entrance but were paused by an uncommon but not unfamiliar sight.

Gliding down from above and sliding to a halt was an open carriage of glistening gold. It was being pulled by two gold-armoured pegusi that had been tasked with the safe return of the royal sisters, and they were ready and waiting to take the Princesses Celestia and Luna back to New York City. The three headed over to the carriage and joined the large crowd gathering.

As they neared, Luna, who had been waiting in the doorway of the university for her ride, began her descent down the steps with a crowd gathered behind her. Escorting her were two guards, a male and female pegasus, both armed with spears and sheathed daggers. They took control of the crowd and kept them at bay, using their spears as leverage, and made a clear path for the princess.

Luna entered the carriage and gave her farewell to her awe-struck crowd with a smile and small waves of the hoof. Among the crowd she noticed Nick and Sophie waving her farewell. She gave Nick a stare and he stopped waving. Her stare pierced his and he knew exactly why. She placed a hoof across her lips and he gave a serious nod. She explained to her flyers, as well as her escorts, that Celestia would be staying the night and requested that she be picked up the following morning. Understanding the wish, they take off with only Luna in their carriage.

After the ordeal, the crowd slowly started dispersing and the guard escorts returned to their posts at the train station. Sophie was vigilant, however, and inquired about the silent gesture. Nick gave nothing away and bade her a swift farewell. He departed in a hurry with Jesse close behind. From the reception, he returned to his room on the ground floor where he stayed for the rest of the day ensuring everything was packed and readied for the move.

He rubs his watery eyes and looks over just in time to see Jesse floating through the bedroom door leading into the living room. Realising what she said, he throws the duvet off his bare body and climbs out of bed. He prefers to sleep in his underwear since pyjamas tend to stick to his body during the night and he finds them uncomfortable to sleep in. As a child he would unconsciously climb out of them almost every night and wake up each morning with them either on the floor or at the bottom of his bed. He quickly throws on the uniform set he had left out the previous day, slides into his snug slippers, makes sure to turn off the alarm he had set on the Dushuck, unlocks the bedroom door, and heads out into the living room.

The bright sun forces its way in through the living room window, almost blinding his morning-sensitive eyes. He spots Jesse hovering at the front door.

“I thought you were heading out?” He says marginally groggy.

“I am,” She says, pointing at a small makeshift bag propped against the wall as he walks past to answer the door, “but the door went off while I was getting ready.”

“Who is it?” He asks.

“Look for yourself.” She responds with a giggle.

He opens the door and is greeted by a cross-eyed light-grey coated pegasus. She wears a brown cap with a red winged arrow as its logo atop her golden mane and a brown-shirt uniform with the same logo stitched onto the chest. Strapped around her is a mailbag that would usually be brimming with letters and parcels but today is almost empty. She stands there with a letter gripped in her teeth.

Nick shows a smile. “Good morning.” He greets, attempting to avoid looking at the wrong eye. “How can I help you?” She nods her head, the letter flapping in her mouth as an indication for him to take it from her grasp.

He reaches out with the tip of his fingers and gently removes the letter from her mouth. He scans the address – Room 32, C Section. In the corner, the royal red-wax stamp is welded onto the paper. In the opposite corner states ‘URGENT DELIVERY’. This must be the letter that Celestia said she was going to send him.

While Nick studies the letter with intrigue, the mailmare rummages through her mailbag. She produces a small box wrapped in jagged brown wrapping paper detailed with the same address, this time including his name, the university, the city, and the state written in unkempt handwriting. She presents it in hoof and waits patiently for his notice. He looks away from the letter and at the parcel. He picks up the scrappily-wrapped lightweight parcel with the added curiosity of who sent it and what lay inside.

Nick looks back at her and she stands there now with a clipboard and an attached pen grasped in her teeth. She needs his signature to ensure the deliveries were made and to the right person. He takes the string-attached pen from its holder and signs the piece of paper on the dotted line. Above the signature were various questions based on the services provided such as quality of the packages upon delivery, friendliness of the mail-carrier, and standard of delivery alongside a rating system of one to five stars. Above these questions were the titular words ‘student mailmare record’ capitalised and bold. He quickly ticks four stars for each rating and returns the pen. She withdraws the clipboard and places it back in the bag. She smiles at him providing him with no more letters or packages.

“Is that all?” Nick asks. The mare nods. “Well, thank you.” She makes an obligatory salute before continuing her routinely deliveries around the university. “Have a lovely day.” He calls after her down the near-empty corridor. He closes the door and heads back into the middle of the room. He examines both the box and the letter in each hand.

“Did you see her eyes?” Jesse asks, floating in from behind, hoping he would discuss the mare with her. He utters an acknowledgement but mentions nothing. “They were all over the shot. I didn’t know which one to look at.” She pauses, waiting for his response. “What do you think she sees with the other eye?”

“Obviously not your attempts to insult.” He answers seriously.

“Come on,” She says, “what happened to your sense of humour?” He ignores her attempts at eliciting him, and instead places the letter on the deskside table and unwraps the box. “What is it? Who’s it from? Where’d it come from?”

“I don’t know.” Nick answers all three questions at once, scrunching the paper and placing it on the table. “The packaging is all scrunched up, as if it were wrapped in a hurry. My guess is that it must be a mistake, delivered to the wrong address or something.”

“But it has your name and address on it. Who would order something and use your name and address?” She gasps as a thought enters her mind. “It’s not a bomb, is it?”

He laughs a little. “It’s a little too early for that, Jesse. Maybe it’s from a fan.”

“A fan?” Jesse repeats. “You mean to tell me someone out there actually likes your music?”

The crudely cut sticky tape that wrapped around the box looked hurried and unprofessional. The box itself was branded, belonging to a company that sells wallpaper paint called Tainted Paint. The size of the box could hold only one small tin of paint. This observation only confuses him further and his eagerness to know its contents grows.

He uses the nail of his thumb to pick at the end and he peels off the sticky tape with a satisfying sound. He opens the jagged flaps of the box and Jesse makes the sound of an explosion. She giggles, and he rolls his eyes. He peers inside.

Amongst the mass-amount of bubble wrap that laden the walls is a small makeshift piece of paper serving as a note and two smooth cylindrical cases underneath. As soon as his eyes rested on the cases, Nick knew exactly what they held, who sent them, and where they came from. He picks up the piece of paper and reads the hastily handwritten note aloud with a smile.

“‘You left in a hurry’.” He quotes out loud. “‘Sent these the day after you left. Thought you might need them. Hope they don’t get to you too late. Mom~’”

“Aww.” Jesse says. “What is it, though?” With one hand he removes both cases and holds them up to show her. “Oh, your reading glasses. I was actually starting to wonder why I haven’t seen you wear them since we got here.”

“I realised I left them when I got on the train.” Nick says, pulling the memories out from the back of his head. “I guess I was a little too eager to leave. Obviously, it was too late to go back then. Thanks, mom!”

“So much for your fan theory… and my bomb one. Maybe next time.”

He places the cases on the table and picks up the wrapping paper in their place. He looks at the letter that had been hiding under the wrapping paper. He places the paper in the box and slides the letter out from under the cases. He heads over the kitchen and throws the box in the bin underneath the sink. Before peeling open the letter, he heads back and opens one of the cases and equips the glasses that was inside them. With his eyesight now gratifyingly focused, he scans the handwritten letter before Jesse asks where it came from, who it is by, and what it says.

“‘Dear Mr. Galluver’.” He repeats.

“How formal.” Jesse says.

“‘As promised,” Nick continues, “I have written for you a letter of instruction personally to inform you of your transfer from room C-32 to room N-42 in the northern wing of the second floor.’”

“First floor.” Jesse corrects the letter. “I hate that they use a different system.”

“I know, I’m still getting used to it as well.” He says before continuing. “‘I will be waiting for your arrival outside your new room, along with Twilight’s, where I will assess your immediate situation and settle you both in person.’”

“‘Assess your immediate situation-’ what?”

“I think she wants to ensure we’re happy about the room we’ll be staying together in.”

“Then why doesn’t she say that instead of trying to make it sound smart but end up confusing and stupid?”

“Can I finish reading?” Jesse waves a hand at him and he continues. “‘I request that you meet me no later than 8 a.m. the day this letter arrives to confirm and complete your resettlement. I have been requested to inform you that your previous living quarter has already been rented to a distant student and to request that you leave no valuable or hazardous belongings before departing. Beyond this, I wish both you and Twilight the best of the year. Yours sincerely – Princess Celestia’ … ‘And Luna’.”

He does not repeat the postscript reminding him to keep their secret between them as it does not need repeating. He scans through the letter again to ensure he has the details correct, but something seems a little off.

“Celestia, huh?” Jesse says. “I guess she wasn’t kidding when you said she’ll send a letter. You have an hour.”

“Plenty of time.” Nick says, taking mental note of the room number. “That’s strange…”

“What is?”

“Which side did I tell you yesterday we were moving to?”

“This side. Why?”

“This letter’s telling me we’re moving to the northern section.” He says, waving the letter in his front. “Why the change?”

“Didn’t you say she would ‘try’ to get you a room in the west wing? Maybe she couldn’t.”

“Maybe.” He says, taking off his spectacles and placing them back in its case. He walks around into the kitchen and throws the letter into the bin. “I find it a little odd that, between the two sides, she’s chosen to move us into a room to the north. I’ll have to question her about this, for my own curiosity’s sake. Anyway, I’m all ready and packed. I just need a shower and a quick drink before I head out to meet her.” He glances to Jesse, who hovers at the other side of the counter. “Speaking of heading out, shouldn’t you be?”

“Aww, but I want to move in with you!” She cries.

“You know what room I’m in; N-42, and you’ll be back tomorrow. You won’t be missing much, a quick tour and an unpack.” He feigns a yawn, that turns into a real yawn, which sets Jesse off yawning. “Besides, you don’t want to keep Mother Danu waiting, do you?”

“Fine.” She says. She picks up her bag and securely ties it before throwing it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She adds and begins her ascent.

“Don’t forget to drift in the clouds a while.” He calls after her. “I want that head of yours clear when you return.”

She flicks her tongue out at him and he returns the gesture followed by a smile. He waves her farewell, and she disappears. She flies through the ceiling and out of the university, into the bright sunlit sky before evaporating into the deep blue.

With Jesse’s departure, Nick turns on the television and switches the channel to his favourite music station; My Music for You, abbreviated as MM4U. Jesse hates this station because it plays nothing but the current chart toppers, whereas Nick can listen to just about anything. He increases the volume just enough to hear it over the sound of running water and heads into the bathroom leaving the door open.

He turns the shower on and turns the heat up above the average temperature as he prefers his showers hot. He turns on the fan for the ventilation system and it whirs into life. He undresses and folds his clothes, placing them and his slippers on the closed toilet’s lid before hopping in. He washes himself the way he always does, starting with pouring specifically formulated shampoo on his hair and rubbing thoroughly. He then uses high-quality body gel to scrub his face. From here and with the same gel, he makes his way downward using a wooden scrubbing brush to wash first his arms, then torso, waist, and genitals, leaving his legs and feet for last. A typical shower period varies between ten and fifteen minutes.

Ten minutes later he emerges from the bathroom with a university-provided towel wrapped around his waist, clean and exfoliated, scrubbing his hair dry with a smaller hand towel. He changes the television channel to the Northern Ireland Transatlantic news station, NIT for short, and observes as he finishes drying and dressing back into his uniform with a fresh pair of pants.

The news shows pre-recorded footage of a family of dragons amidst a larger clan from an Irish valley above the headline “Dark-Scaled Dragon Twins Hatched in Southern Ireland”. One of the two news readers monologues about the “spectacular footage” of a pair of Black-Eye hatchlings whose scales are coloured coal black, while all throughout the videographer voices his happiness.

The amateur-style footage shows the cracking of the eggshell in the shallows of a ruby-red nest underneath a mother dragon. One of the two hatchlings pops their head out of the crack and examines its surroundings. It roars adorably, and its twin emerges to inspect as well.

“Aw.” Nick expresses in delight at the roar as he throws his towel into the laundry chute.

Did I mention almost every apartment in the university has a laundry chute? Nick’s room has a laundry chute, and it leads to the large laundrette in the basement under the university where bedsheets and towels pile high every night, and staff work through the night filling and emptying industrial size washing machines. Every morning clean laundry are mysteriously returned to the rooms that have none, and few students know how and fewer care. The truth behind the mystery is that the night workers silently enter each room and place them neatly folded where they are easily visible for the students. No mysticism here, I’m afraid, maybe next time. Anyway.

The mother dragon leans in and nudges the first hatchling with her snout. The tomboyish hatchling hisses as its head is gently pressed. It sniffs its mother, recognising and preserving her scent, and clings onto her snout to be lifted out of its egg. It then climbs up her face and behind the ears for a clearer view at a vantage point. It looks out over the clan it will call family like a meerkat on its hindlegs and roars again.

The second hatchling was not so eager to emerge, however, and it timidly hides within the safety of the egg, barricading itself within the walls. The mother presses her snout into the egg and the shell cracks apart. The hatchling cowers helplessly as the mother nudges it too. The first hatchling jumps off its mother’s head and accompanies its sibling, sniffing it and ensuring safety. The hatchling cautiously sniffs its mother and, understanding she poses no threat, scurries to hide under the laying beast’s feet.

“You have witnessed enough, human.” The watching dragon chieftain says in a deep, thundering voice standing between the mother and the cameraman.

The video is abruptly cut short and the newscasters express their congratulations to the mother as well as the pact. They smoothly transition into the local weather before discussing their national political status.

Nick keeps one ear on the newscasters as he opens the door to the fridge and finds it home to a single near-empty carton of apple juice. He removes the carton and pops off the lid. He chugs the rest of the cool liquid in one mouthful and it smoothly slides down his throat. He sighs in satisfaction and throws the empty carton into the bin. He closes the door and opens the freezer section and scans its drawers. A small bag of raw rabbit haunches sits in the bottom drawer, while a small open box of cut turkey breasts sits in the middle. He shrugs and closes the door.

He returns to his bedroom and picks up the Dushuck from the bedside table, placing it in his pocket, and throws on the chain that lay next to it, tucking the pendant into his shirt. He sits on his bed, takes off his slippers and slides into his shoes. He grabs his slippers and stands up. He quickly assesses the room to check he is leaving nothing behind. He picks up the rucksack he had placed on the chair near the door the night before and exits the bedroom. He throws the bag on the couch and unzips one of the pockets. He puts in first his slippers, then sleeping underwear, and finally his glasses cases in different compartments. Before he zips up, an unusual-sounding noise reaches his ears above the discussion of the television presenters; a high-sounding chime like a bell being stroked reverberated inside his ears.

He turns off the television and listens carefully. He recognises the direction of the sound and stares at the television. He notices on the mantlepiece the silver crystal dragon statuette sits staring at him. He walks over, picks it up and reads the label underneath, “Dragonette”. He gently strokes the head and the same chime was heard, as if enticing him to take it.

He shrugs and places the statuette in his bag and zips up. The statue stops its chiming and falls into relieving silence. He throws his bag over his shoulders and heads to the door. He turns to take one last look around the living room, takes a deep breath, and exits the apartment.

He traverses the near-empty corridors through to the courtyard, up the stone staircase, and into the northern wing. As he enters the N section of the building, he notices a group of students congregating halfway down the corridor. It takes him a few steps to realise they were surrounding princess Celestia, bombarding her with questions, compliments, and ideas and thoughts on modern-day political standards. She is forcing a smile as she is required to answer her admirer’s thoughtful queries. He meets up with Celestia and curtseys upon her greeting.

“Ah, good morning, Nicholas.” She greets with a nod above the crowd, unintentionally interrupting one of the student’s questions.

“Good morning.” Nick returns her greeting.

“You’re in league with the princess?” One of the students says.

“Wow! You’re so cool!” Another remarks.

“How come you’re on a first-name basis with him?” One asks Celestia.

“That is enough questions for now.” She says formally addressing her subjects. “I wish for you to now disperse.”

“Aww.” The students simultaneously respond. The crowd does as requested, though timely and with audible disapproving thoughts. Most students leave the corridor and return to their rooms while few others gather at the end of the corridor and observe. Nick glances over his shoulder as their watchful eyes pierce the back of his neck.

“Ignore them.” Celestia drearily says noticing his glances and reading his thoughts. “They mean no harm.”

“How do you deal with that kind of popularity?” Nick curiously asks.

“It comes with the title, I’m afraid.” She answers. “You simply smile and revert their kindness.”

“And the unkind ones?”

“Banish them to oblivion.” She glances to Nick, whose jaw locks open at her surprising monotonic answer, and cracks a smile. “Show them your kindness regardless.” She adds more seriously. “At the very least they’ll learn something from it.”

Nick nods. “You sound tired.”

“Is it that obvious?” She clears her throat and pauses before saying, “I’ve been up all night, thinking, about Twilight.”

She says nothing more despite Nick waiting for her to continue.

“I understand.” Nick says. “I used to be the same; staying up until early morning filled with thoughts of the future. Until I discovered a way around it.”

“Hmm.” Celestia utters in acknowledgement.

Nick scratches his neck. He was hoping that she would inquire about it but figures she must be too tired to even attempt.

“So, what now?” He says after a while.

“Now we wait for Twilight.” She answers, glancing down the corridor. “I want her to be here before I settle you in. It shouldn’t be long before she’s here.” She mouths something but Nick did not catch it in time.

Minutes pass and they stand in awkward silence. Celestia stares down the corridor in the direction she presumes Twilight will emerge.

“What is it you need me to do exactly?” Nick says, breaking the silence. “With Twilight, I mean.”

“We have already discussed this,” Celestia says, sternly but thoughtfully, “and I will not discuss it again, especially here.”

“Not in much detail.” Nick says. “How should I carry this out?” She does not respond. He decides to pull back a little. “Do you think Twilight will show?”

She returns to silence and says no more to Nick until Twilight arrives. A few early-rising students and tutors pass by, giving Celestia a morning greeting and staring at her with awe. She smiles and shows gratitude towards her captivated fans before swiftly instructing them to move along.

Nick leans against the wall opposite Celestia and studies the students passing by. He glances at the Princess. When she is not being appreciated by her admirers, she stands as uptight and stoic as usual, but her eyes were clouded and dark as they stare longingly down the corridor. Even Nick could tell she was drowning in drowsiness, but her thoughts kept her from satisfying it. What she was thinking of however was beyond his forte, despite what she claims.

At last Twilight arrives not fifteen minutes later, long faced and slow. She walks unwillingly with tiredness in every hoofstep. Her head is hung and her eyes stare blankly at the floor, half-open and dull. She wheels behind her a suitcase filled with her personal belongings and a travelling bag riding on top.

“Good morning, Twilight.” Celestia greets kindly. Twilight does not return her greeting. “How did you find the night?” She answers the question with a swift glance up. Celestia reluctantly accepts this as an answer and moves forward. “I am glad you have agreed to our decision.”

“You mean your decision.” Twilight says under breath. Celestia hears this but does not address it quite yet.

“Good morning, Twilight.” Nick also greets with a friendly smile. She shuns his greeting with a twist of the head. This simple gesture annoys Nick profusely and he snaps at her. “I see you’re still as ignorant as ever.”

“Nick!” Celestia says, sharply glancing at him.

“What did you call me, you dim-witted moron?” Twilight responds sharply, taking a step forward.

“Twilight!” Celestia says, sharply glancing at her.

“Exactly what you are,” Nick says, following her gesture, “nothing more than an uptight little twerp.”

“Enough!” Celestia calls out.

“How dare you call me a twerp, you ugly ape.” Twilight says. “You’re just as-”

“I said enough!” Celestia shouts, cutting Twilight’s sentence short, stomping her heavy hooves onto the ground and standing between them. The potency in her strike shook the very floor they were standing on. The onlookers at the end of the corridor gasp in surprise. Both Nick and Twilight were silenced. “I am not in the mood for foalish games between the two of you. I have had it up to the tip of my horn with your attitude, Twilight.”

“Me?” Twilight says. “What about Him?” She throws a hoof at Nick. “He started it with his pompous remarks.”

“And what did I tell you about showing kindness?” Celestia continues, now turning her attention to Nick. “I expect better from you, Nicholas.”

“How can I be expected to deal with this pompous mare’s attitude?” Nick says.

“There you go with the pompous remarks again.” Twilight says. “How would you like it if I-”

“Enough!” Celestia says again, and Twilight falls silent. Her breathing is shaky, and her eyes are tight. “You two are going to get along with each other, whether you like it or do not.” She takes a heavy step away from the door and further into the middle of the corridor. She turns to face the north-facing room at the top side of the corridor. “I want you both to enter your room and settle your attitudes right now.”

Nick could hear the beating of Celestia’s heavy heart in her dominant voice, beating at twice the potency of thunder. He notices her shaking slightly as her adrenaline courses rapidly through her muscles. His body recognises this and begins to mirror her motions. He glances at Twilight, who glances back at him. She too could tell Celestia was worse for the wear and dares not make it worse.

“Mares first.” He says, taking a step back.

Twilight stares at him with downed eyes but says nothing. She steps forward and stands in front of the door. The handle does not have a sensor beneath it nor a keyhole and instead has nothing.

“There’s no sensor.” She says.

“It’s on old door.” Celestia answers. “I’ll have someone build a sensor when you’re settled.”

Twilight places a hoof on the handle and pushes it down to release the door. The mechanism unlatches itself from its slot and she pushes, but the door does not open. She tries again but with more force, but the door remains unmoving.

As Twilight attempts to open the door, Nick asks Celestia the question that has been on his mind since he opened her letter. “Why did you decide to move us into the north wing?”

“I had spoken to Norma about an arrangement on her side of the university.” Celestia says, her breathing now steady. “However, the last two-bedroomed apartments on the western side had been already taken by new students last month. We thoroughly searched the databank for an opening spot but found nothing. Norma decided to contact the headmaster, whom of which recommended we search the northern wing despite remaining specifically prohibited from being accommodated. Nevertheless, we did find only one room available.”

“N-42.” Nick says, looking at the number plate.

Celestia nods. “With no other options left to weigh out we had no choice but to accept it, and the two rooms now open on either side of the university, the two you and Twilight were in before, left space for two more distant students. Norma was certainly more than happy with the outcome at the expense of a northern room.”

“It’s stuck.” Twilight says, pulling and pushing at the door in frustration.

“What do you mean it sucks?” Nick asks.

“I said it’s stuck!” She repeats in a higher tone of voice.

“Oh. It just needs more force.” Nick says.

“You do it, then.” She says, releasing the handle and taking a step back.

Nick steps up and presses the handle. He pushes and sure enough the door seemed stuck. He places his shoulder to the door and, with the weight of a twenty-two-year-old Tuatha behind him, slams against it. The door shifts slightly but is knocked back into its place.

“Be careful.” Celestia says. “I won’t be liable for any damages.”

“Then they should’ve, ngh, fitted a better door.” Nick says with a sharp breath. As he breathes, he smells something pungent enter his nose and coughs. “It feels like there’s something blocking it from the other side, stopping it from opening.”

“There shouldn’t be…” Celestia says.

He stops pushing and releases the handle. “Who used to live here before?”

Celestia shakes her head. “There were no records of this room ever being occupied. Though rumours have spread it was once home to a creature of anarchy almost two-hundred years ago, before the building was declared a university. We found no accounts of it ever being vacated.”

“And you want us two to live in it?” Nick says.

“So, there could be…” Twilight’s tone drops as her thoughts turn dark.

“I had assigned a university staff member to inspect the room before our arrival. There is nothing to fear.”

“Twilight,” Nick turns to her, “will you hold down the handle while I push?”

She glances to Celestia who stares back from the corner of her eye and nods. She sharply exhales and does as requested with reluctance.

She steps forward and holds down the handle. He places his shoulder against the door again. With Twilight occupying the handle, Nick can now utilise his full strength on pushing open the door. He pushes and the sound of wood scraping on wood could be heard. The door opens slightly but a hefty weight prevents it from moving any further.

“Nngh, Twilight…” He grunts. “Help me push!”

She does so, pressing herself against the door forcing her whole body into pushing.

After a few seconds of strenuous nonstop forceful pushing, the door finally budges and slowly starts to open. After a while, the door is forced open and, with a loud crash from behind the door, was suddenly forced to stop. Nick and Twilight almost fall face-first into the room. The immediate stench that pours out of the room makes Nick gag and he covers his mouth and nose with the collar of his shirt, while Twilight throws a hoof over her snout.

The party of three peer inside. The room was coated in darkness save for the light leaking in from the well-lit corridor. The curtain that was covering the longitudinal window is blacked out, pulled tightly to, and fastened with clips. Twilight uses her magic to turn on the light via the switch at the side of the door. The bulb flashes and bursts, making both Nick and Twilight jump at the sound, and glass shatters onto the floor. Celestia impatiently proceeds to tear down the curtain to fully illuminate the room, breaking the clips that fly across the room. The three gasp at the discovery that was uncovered.

The room is what a lot of people would consider an absolute mess. What had been blocking the door, a large cupboard that had been stacked with books, trinkets, and decorative treasures, is now weighing heavily on the clothes-covered discoloured settee and is preventing the door from opening further. Drawers are placed unorganised into the middle of the room. Tables are tipped onto their surfaces and chairs on their sides. Boxes both large and small are stacked unsteadily on top of furniture and each other about the floor. Items of clothing from shirts, shoes, and pants have been draped over every surface imaginable, including the floor. Individual pieces of dry, crisp paper have been scattered all over the room and on top of the clothing. Protruding out of open drawers and scattered across the floor are small hazardous objects such as mirror fragments, sharp metal pipes, and fractured pieces of wood. Moths and spiders that were disturbed are now flying and skittering everywhere in a frantic attempt to escape the sunlight and disappear back into darkness.

Atop all this disorder sits a thick layer of dust that has grown over the many years of neglect, save for what has been disturbed by the falling of the door-blocking cupboard which is now floating aimlessly circulating around the room. The carpet and wallpaper are ripped and tearing almost everywhere, revealing the bare brick and wooden panels beneath them. There are marks stained into every wall and sections of floor. There is not a single spot on the floor that is safe to stand upon.

Were the room not in such a state of ruin, it would be an ordinary double-bedroomed apartment once again appearing smaller on the outside. Stepping through the main door immediately places you in the open living room with the kitchen counters stretching along the backwall. The window is situated to the right of the kitchenette between the counter and the wall of the first bedroom. Both bedrooms are built into the right-hand wall and situated next to each other. Further along the wall is another door that leads into a small old-fashioned laundrette, and through the door at the other side of the laundrette is the bathroom.

Beyond the smell of must and dust was a putrid smell coming from under the large pile of waste defiling the corner, of which made both Nick and Twilight gag violently.

“That smell is disgusting!” Twilight exclaims as she coughs fiercely with tears in her eyes. She uses her magic to open the window wide in the hopes that the fresh breeze blowing will flow the stench outside. A large gust of wind enters, and a cloud of dust is made airborne and is almost immediately sucked out into the backyard like a vacuum.

“You can say that again.” Nick says, his nose still covered with his collar. “This place is a dump.”

“You should feel right at home, then.” Twilight says.

“Look, look!” Nick points at a large rat scurrying wildly between two pieces of furniture before disappearing under the wreckages. “Did you see that rat? That thing was huge!” They pause and wait for it to emerge again, but it does not. “I hope you’re not afraid of rodents.” He jests.

“I’m talking to one, aren’t I?” She seriously answers.

He turns to her and chatters his teeth to imitate a mouse’s gnawing. She stares at him with indifference. He rolls his eyes and ignores her seriousness.

“And we’re supposed to live here for an entire year?” He asks.

“Who used to live in this junkyard of an apartment before they abandoned it?” Twilight asks.

They turn to Celestia in hopes for an answer, but she stares into the room with a clear indication of horrified shock frozen on her face. She is stunned to find the room in the state it is.

“P-Princess?” Twilight says with hesitance.

She is pulled from her frozen state upon Twilight’s call and throws her gaze away from them. “I thought I told them to prepare this room!” She growls under her breath with a shake of the hoof. “Why that stupid… Gah! I’m going to kill Live Wires!” She closes her eyes and breathes deeply to calm herself. She slowly lifts her face to meet theirs. “I’m sorry about this.” She says once composed, keeping her eyes closed. She rubs her temple firmly with her hoof. “This morning has been such a disaster. I had specifically requested the room be cleaned and prepared for your arrival this morning.” She removes her hoof and opens her eyes. “I’ll speak to Norma personally about arranging someone to fix this. Maybe she will have better authority than I. In the meantime, I’m afraid you’ll have to busy yourselves for a little while just until the room is ready.”

Nick folds his arms and taps his own temple as a cloud of thought swirls around his head and is given solidarity. “Wait, Princess.” He says. “I think I may have an idea.” They turn to him and await his suggestion. “Why don’t you let us clean the room, together, me and Twilight?”

“What?” Twilight says in a raised voice.

“Hear me out!” Nick says, holding a finger up to her. “It’s the perfect activity for us to have a good chance to talk while we work, get to know each other while the cleaning serves as a distraction. It’ll be a first step in creating a bond.”

“No!” Twilight says, taking a step toward him. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about. This is the university’s fault, not yours nor mine. They should have taken better care of their rooms and not let it get this bad in the first place. Why should I have to clean what they neglect? Let them clean it so I can go back to my room and…”

“Negative.” Celestia says, quickly cutting her off. “I’m afraid that will not be possible.”

“What?” Twilight says, sharply twisting her head to Celestia in surprise. “Why?”

“Did I not state in your letter that distant students have been arranged to your room, both your rooms? I’m afraid the effect is taken immediately.”

“You’re joking, right?” Twilight says. Celestia stares at her with no hint of sarcasm in her eyes. “Princess, you can’t be serious.” Celestia nods with heavy reluctance on her shoulders, and Twilight frowns.

Celestia turns to Nick. “And you are positive about your intent.”

“I am.” He says.

“Then so be it.” She says. Twilight’s heart drops upon hearing this. “You two will be in charge of restoring this outrages room to its former state.”

“But,” Twilight begins, “even if we were to do it, clear out this mess-heap, it will take ages to remove all this junk.”

“She has a point.” Nick says, glancing back into the room. “There is a lot of junk to shift, and I still have classes to attend.”

“I’m sure you two will come to a compromise.” Celestia says. Nick attempts to offer her another suggestion, but she speaks before they can be heard. “I must go now. I have other important businesses to attend.”

She turns to Twilight and kneels down to her level. From the glint of Twilight’s avoidant eyes, Celestia could see she was wavering in angered thoughts. She attempts to look directly into her eyes but Twilight does not look back.

“Twilight, listen to me.” She says gently. Twilight slowly turns her head to face her but does not initiate eye contact. “I want you to at least try to get along with Nick. Become his close friend; listen to him and learn from him, give him your trust, share with him your thoughts, and be happy in his company.”

Twilight looks away, shifting her head to the side, and stares at the floor. She says nothing but, unbeknownst to Celestia and Nick, is filled with thoughts of desertion. Celestia stands back up and walks over to Nick. She places a firm hoof on his shoulder.

“Take care of her, Nick.” She says with a determined push of the hoof. “I’m counting on you. Please don’t let me down.”

He breathes deeply and nasally. He raises a hand and presses it against her raised hoof; the first time he has touched royalty, and her coat feels warm and smooth. “You have my word, Princess.”

She forces a smile and a slight nod before removing her hoof and heading down the corridor, leaving both Nick and Twilight alone to deal with their temporary living status. “I need a nap before my departure.” She adds under breath as she heads out of the corridor. She is followed by the group of admirers until she disappears into her temporary room to await the arrival of her personal carriage.

“Good one, Nick.” He says to himself, forcefully knocking on his forehead. “You’re going to have to work twice as hard now.” He turns to face Twilight who is frowning at the disappearance of Celestia. He sighs before telling her, “I’m sorry about my comment earlier. It was out of character for me.”

“So you should be.” Twilight answers back.

Nick clenches his fist and his body tightens in frustration. He wants to lash out but reminds himself of the greater cause. He takes a breather – one, two, three, one, two, three – and releases his fist.

“I guess we should get started.” He says, with annoyance still lingering in his cheek. He looks into the room to remind him once again just how much trash needed to be removed. “We’re gonna need some equipment. Gloves, masks, a ton of bags, and…”

“I’ll get them.” Twilight quickly says and gallops down the corridor with speed.

Nick watches her disappear through the doors. “Then I’ll wait here.” He tells himself. He leans against the wall and speaks to himself so quietly that only his thoughts can hear what he has to say. “You have more patience than that, Nick. You need to keep yourself cool. Try keeping in mind your little brother when you talk to her, then maybe…” He closes his eyes and falls silent. He waits for her to return, all the while thinking of how best to deal with the hatred he finds himself targeted with.

Episode 2: Part 2 - Pierce the Hoof

Twilight leaves Nick waiting outside her newly but poorly pronounced room, number N-42, and follows Celestia's trail through corridor O to reach the upper courtyard. She makes her way down the staircase to the level below and through the double doors leading to the reception. She marches past the reception desk, ignoring the recognising glances from Grace seated on her chair, through the main doors and out of the building into the bright morning sun. From the top of the steps, she closes her eyes and inhales as the warmth of the sunrays bounce off her glum face tearing a much-needed smile between her lips. She kicks her hooves, stretches her legs, and yawns heftily before making her way down the steps and takes a right towards the university's conditioned marketplace.

The markets were typically quieter on weekday mornings, mainly due to students attending their first lessons of the day, and the stalls were less crowded as a result. This gave non-students and visitors a quieter shopping experience and plenty of room to browse to their heart's content. This also means Twilight can bag and buy whatever she needed to help clean her room without any distractions or hindrances; or so she thought.

Twilight makes her way down the cool lanes, passing the thinly crowded stalls she did not need, and steps into the notably larger DIY stall, titled 'Do It Yourself' with the subtitle 'For all your DIY needs' underneath. She is immediately greeted by the stall owner, carrying a small carboard box that was currently empty, and is told to feel free to take her time browsing before disappearing through the aisles. The stall is large, spanning a two-by-two area and extending twice the height of the other stalls that surround it, devouring them in its colossal shadow. It is filled to the brim with carious electronic power tools, slabs of wood, and steel beams, in and out of boxes placed on metal shelves stretching to the top of the stall.

Twilight walks down one aisle and back up another as she zigzags her way around the store. She carefully scans her eyes across the shelves as she walks beside the racks in search for the protective equipment that she headed out for. However, despite her keen eyesight and carefully glances, she finds nothing of the sort.

Twilight loops around the end shelving rack and spots the stall owner standing on a step ladder, reaching up and taking down broken shards of glass from the shelves. "Where do you keep you PPE?" She asks on approach, watching her place with care the glass shards into the box.

"P-PP"?" The owner repeats with a minor stutter, glancing down at her. "All P-PPE are found near the t-till." She says, pointing with her free hand in the direction of the equipment.

"Oh..." Twilight says before turn tailing back to the cash register near the entrance of the stall.

Upon exiting the aisle, she immediately spots the equipment hanging on a stand with the sign 'PPE' in bold letters above it at the side of the entrance opposite the cash register. Her cheeks blush a little when she realises she had walked right past them but her face remains indifferent. She stands at the till and, using her magic, lifts a pair of loose thin rubber gloves from the stand and places them on the counter near the till. She notices boxes of plastic goggles and does the same with a cheap pair, but she finds no boxes of dust masks on the stand. She glances around her vicinity to make sure she had not missed them and finds no sign of them.

The stall owner emerges from the aisle after having collected all glass shards and placing down the box near the ladder to attend the stall's customer. Twilight spots the owner walking towards her and asks before the owner could reach the cash register, "Where are your masks?"

"Huh?" The owner says in confusion. "They sh-should be, oh..."

The owner glances to the stand and, upon realising the masks were not on show, walks past Twilight towards it. Standing at the side of the stand, she turns to face Twilight, places a hand on the stand and spins it around revealing the contents on its back. Twilight expression drops and she shimmies as boxes of masks, earmuff, and clear bags of thin aprons are revealed to her.

Twilight glances away. "I'm just tired." She says.

The owner grins. "I-I figured you might be." She says. "The rings under your eyes give i-it away. How many mask-sks do you need?" She adds, removing a box from the stand's counter and hovering a hand over the others. "Good morning." She greets with a smile as a large customer slowly ventures into her stall and is told to feel free to take his time browsing.

"Twilight grumbles and rubs the underside of her eyes but says nothing. She waits for the slow-moving customer to move out of the way before using her magic from where she stands to remove two boxes of masks and a bag of aprons from the stand. She places them on the counter and the owner returns the box she was holding to the stand and returns herself behind the register.

"I-is that everything?" The owner asks.

Twilight pauses to think for a moment before answering her question. "Do you have any garbage bags?"

"We do." The owner says. "They're near the back, give me a moment." She throws up a hand and waves it in the air to lower her sleeve and raises her wrist to her mouth. She speaks into the mechanical strap wrapped around her wrist. "Alpha one t-to I-India One, over." The device beeps and they wait for a response.

A few silent seconds pass without a word from India One. The owner waits a few moments before repeating her call through the microphone. Still only silence returns. The owner shifts body posture as she becomes more agitated by the lack of communication coming through the radio.

“I-I'm sorry about this." The owner says. "I-Iris i-is never around when I-I actually need him."

The owner marches out from behind the desk, calling for her employee one more time with infuriation slipping into her town, and curses to herself stating in annoyance she being the only one to do anything around the stall. Twilight watches as she disappears down the aisle and rolls her eyes to stare back at the register. She glances up to the homemade digital clock hanging above the counter and impatiently taps her hoof.

While Twilight patiently stands there waiting for the owner to return, the customer that had entered earlier slowly creeps up to her and stands behind her in line for the till. She could feel the weight of his heavy breathing blowing through her mane and down her spine. His rotten egg-like breath wraps around her head and pierces her nostrils, forcing its way through her nasal cavities and down the back of her throat. She coughs heavily and tears are brought to her eyes as she forcefully covers her nose with her hoof as the large stranger continues to inadvertently breathe on her.

Twilight turns her head to look at the stranger, who stares straight with glazed eyes. His yellow hardhat and stained white tight-fit vest give him a stereotypical road maintenance appeal. He carries under each muscular arm multiple heavy slates of wood that are handled with ease.

"Excuse me." Twilight says with her breathing holes covered. "Can you stop breathing on me?"

The man slowly lowers his gaze and stares down at the young unicorn. He inhales deeply before slowly parting his lips to show a seemingly benign, yet intimidating, toothless smile. From his empty mouth pours another wave of his bad breath that flows over Twilight's entire body. Twilight grumbles and turns to face away from him and stares at the blinking clock, which shows 08:34.

The clock adds a minute to its timer, which felt like ten minutes to Twilight, before the owner returns with two bags of garbage bags and drops them on the counter. "I-I'm so sorry about that, Miss." She says to Twilight with annoyed sympathy. "I-it was very unp-profesh-sional of me. I-is that all you need?" Twilight nods and tears fall from her closed eyes.

The items on the counter are priced up and the cash register is tallied. The price of the assembled items is shown and the operator repeats. "That's thirteen dollars and eighty-seven cents."

Upon hearing the price, Twilight gasps as she realises she had left her purse in her travel bag atop her suitcase outside her room. She twitches and glances towards the favourable exit of the stall figuring out what her best plan of action is.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any money on me right now." She explains through another wave of bad breath. "I left my..." she coughs. "I left my purse next to my room. If you give me a moment, I can go back and get it."

"You're a st-student here?" The owner asks, and Twilight rushes a nod. "T-tell you what, since you're in a hurry, I-I'll put these i-items on credit for you."

"Yes, yes, whatever," Twilight sharply snaps, just make it quick."

The owner takes out from beneath the counter a small book with a pen fastened to it and places it open on the counter's surface. "One of the benefits of being a st-student." She says with a chuckle. Twilight does not respond, and the owner continues. "All I-I need i-is your name and your room number."

"Twilight..." She coughs again. "Sparkle. Room R-7... I mean, N42."

"N-40-t-2?" The owner repeats with shock, glancing up from the book. "You're joking, right?"

"No, just hurry up!" Twilight tells her, on the verge of drowning in a sea of rotten eggs.

"Sorry... T-Twilight Sp-Sparkle... N-40-t-2..." The owner repeats slowly and writes down slower, as if tormenting Twilight who is becoming more agitated. "There," she says, forcing a full stop, "now I-I just need your signature, here." She places the pen in the folds and spins the book around. Twilight signs with the pen using her magic in a hurry and drops the pen back on the book. "Thank you, Miss T-Twilight."

The owner removes the book from the countertop and places it back underneath. She emerges with a handled bag and places the purchased items inside the bag with precision. She pushes the bag to Twilight, who rapidly removes it from the counter.

"Thanks." Twilight says with a cough and charges out of the stall.

"You're quite welcome." The owner says with a smile as Twilight exits the stall with her bag of goods. The man behind then moves forward and drops his wooden slates on the counter and is dealt with professionally.

Twilight thankfully exits the DIY stall at full speed and hops across the aisle and stops at the opposite stall, breathing in deeply the conditioned air. With her shopping bag floating behind her, and wishing she had grabbed her satchel before heading out, she heads up the lanes towards the exit and glances into the passing stalls out of curiosity. She walks by and glances inside the stall where Rarity works, aptly titled 'Fashionista's Boutique', and spots the small stature of the stall owner draping coats over hangers near the entrance while Rarity attends a customer at the register.

Rarity spots Twilight over the shoulder of her customer and gives her a decisive wave to wait there for her. Twilight waves back but does not wait and walks past the stall and out of the markets. Rarity finishes dealing with the customer and hops out of her seat, runs past Mia and out of the stall, only to find Twilight had already left. She sighs and returns to her seat to await her next customer.

Twilight makes her way over the university grounds, heads through the reception through its main entrance, hops up the staircase in the courtyard, and steps into corridor N. To her delight, Nick was no longer standing by the door to their room. The corridor had become a little livelier from students passing through and making their way to their classrooms. Thinking he had left the corridor altogether, Twilight heads down the corridor, passing the groups of people and ponies along the way, and is taken by surprise upon realising that the door to her room was open despite it never being closed.

Twilight stands in the doorway and peers into the room and, frowning, spots Nick arched at the back, sliding out of the way boxes and debris. Twilight notices footprints imbedded in the dust-covered floor, like footprints in the snow, where Nick had made his way in from the entrance. Large dust particles were spinning and floating around him as he continues to move objects around his vicinity.

Twilight clears her throat to grab his attention, and he turns around. His mouth and nose were covered by the collar of his shirt, but he shows a pleasant smile regardless.

"Twilight," Nick says with a wave, straightening up, "welcome back. You took your time, so I had a quick look around, see if I could find that rat. Did you get everything?"

"I got everything I thought you might need." Twilight says, holding aloft the bag of protective equipment. "Gloves, masks, goggles, aprons, bags."

"Ah, excellent!" He says, clapping his hands together, agitating the already disturbed dust even more.

"But you seem to be doing just fine without them so I guess I'll hang on to them." Twilight adds with a smirk and a shake of the bag.

"No, wait!" Nick says, hurrying towards her. He slides between a set of drawers and the couch, nudging a decayed box resting on its torn cushions, unaware of its contents spilling onto the floor. Twilight steps aside as he jumps out of the room, followed by a cloud of black dust like soot flying out from a chimney. Grabbing the shopping bag by its handle out of the air, he coughs heavily as he enters the corridor. "Ugh, I think I swallowed some dust." He heftily coughs to clear his throat. He opens the bag and peers inside, examining everything Twilight had bought. "Goggles? Aprons? A little excessive, don't you think?"

"You wanted PPE, you got PPE." Twilight says. "Consider yourself lucky I brought anything back."

"I'm surprised you didn't buy hardhats and boots with everything else." Nick says with a chuckle. He glances to Twilight who looks at him with an unamused stare. "Sorry." He says, losing his amusement, realising she had no intention of humouring him. "Thanks for getting the gear. You did good with this."

He places the shopping bag on the floor and empties its contents, one by one, placing them at the side. With the bag empty, Nick puts on the protective gear. He starts with the apron, looping it over his head and fastening it around his waist.

"I thought you didn't want the apron?" Twilight rhetorically asks.

"You bought them, might as well use them." Nick answers. "Do you need help to tie it?" He asks, passing Twilight an apron.

"No." Twilight says, who reluctantly takes the apron and ties it around herself. "I can tie it myself."

Nick then opens a box of masks and loops one around his ears which covers his mouth and nose. Twilight takes one also and wraps it around herself. Nick pulls a tight pair of gloves over his hands while Twilight straps a pair of goggles to her head.

"I really don't want to do this." Twilight says, adjusting the goggles for a more comfortable fit. "Why did you have to suggest we do this anyway?"

"It won't be as bad as you think." Nick says, resting his own goggles on his nose above his mask. "We'll make it fun."

"How?" Twilight asks. "How can you make cleaning a dump fun?"

"If hanging around with Pinkie has taught me anything," Nick begins, ripping open the bag that the garbage bags came in and shaking one open, "it's that anything practical can be made fun."

"Pinkie, I can believe." Twilight says as Nick shakes open another bag and hands it to her.

Nick places all the equipment back into the shopping bag, with the open bag of garbage bags on the top, and stands to his feet with the shopping bag in one hand and his empty garbage bag in the other. He leans into the room and places the shopping bag at the side of the door slowly as not to further disturb the already agitated dust. He pulls his mask from his mouth and breathes deeply before releasing it and heading inside with no hesitation.

"Come on." Nick says to Twilight. "First one to fill their first bag gets to choose their room." Nick navigates his way through the clutter to reach where he had been standing before Twilight returned.

Twilight slowly follows with a sigh. She steps inside the room and glances around at the mess she has been tasked to clean with Nick. Her hooves are immediately stuck with dust and feel uncomfortable as she stands on them. Her clean goggles begin to attract the dust that was floating around, sticking to the clear plastic eye-shields, and she is no longer able to see clearly without wiping them with her hoof. Her mask too is starting to stick thick with dust which made breathing a little more difficult than it already was. Regardless, she follows Nick's trail to his position.

"By the way," Nick calls to Twilight from his position, "how much did you pay for the equipment?"

"Thirteen dollars, and eighty-seven cents." Twilight calls back.

"Oof." nick says. “They really know how to price their stuff."

"But I couldn't pay her." Twilight continues. "I had to get credit because I left my purse in my bag outsi-AAAAAAAH!"

Twilight screams a deafening cry which loudly echoes around the room and down the corridor. Nick instantly turns around to see Twilight stumbling back and pressing herself against the wall. Her face is cringing from pain and her closed eyes shimmer with the beginning of tears welling in her eyes.

"Twilight!" Nick calls in a panic.

Nick drops his empty bag and promptly rushes towards her, scurrying past the couch and the drawers, and notices her holding up her forehoof as he nears. He reaches her and wraps his arms around her. He lifts her up and holds her in his arms, and she instinctively wraps her forelegs around his neck. Nick could feel her body. Twilight rests her head on his shoulder, and the scent of his sweet shower gel flows through her nose and washes clean away the stench of the bad breath left by the trip to the DIY stall. Nick quickly but strainingly carries her out of the room, kneels, and gently places her on the floor and leans her against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor.

With Twilight now safely set outside her room, her breathing gains weight from the shock and her body twitches severely. Her face had lost a little bit of its colour and was turning a little pale under her mask, which worries Nick.

"What happened?" Nick asks, removing his mask to breathe easier.

A teardrop falls from the corner of Twilight's eye which leaks down her cheek. She tears off her own mask and answers with a yell. "What do you think happened, idiot?"

Nick leans away and glances down to her hoof to find something dull sticking out of it. He reaches down and takes her hoof in hand, lifting it up for a closer look, careful as to not touch the object. Twilight tries pulling away but Nick holds it firmly in place. Her hoof in bleeding slightly, leaking out of the point of penetration which bother Nick. He wants to look away but refuses to give in to the disgust. Upon closer examination, he recognises that a nail, long and rusted, is the object that pierced her hoof.

"Oof," he says, grimacing at the sight, "that looks nasty."

He lifts his gloves hand to his mouth, bites the fingertip, and pulls it off with his teeth. He spits the glove out of his mouth and gently rubs his finger around Twilight's hoof, avoiding the seeping blood, and Twilight sharply flinches. "Ow!" She cries in pain. "Don't touch it, idiot! It hurts."

"I didn't touch it." He says, letting go of her hoof. "It looks fine, all things considered. There's not a lot of blood which means it must just be a puncture, which is good."

"There is nothing 'good' about this." Twilight says. "My hoof is in agony!"

"Trust me, Twilight, it could be a lot worse." Nick firmly tells her. "Here..." He removes Twilight's goggles from her face and unwraps the apron around her waist. "We need to get you to the infirmary." He pauses for a second before adding, "Only problem is I don't know where the infirmary is."

"First floor." Twilight answers, gently rubbing her hoof. "E-91."

"Oh, that's good, we're already on... Wait, E-91?" Nick says. "Ugh, that's so far away." He groans and sighs before adding. "Alright, come on." He wraps his arms around Twilight once more and lifts her up off the ground.

Immediately, before he could stand up straight, a shooting pain courses through his leg, and he staggers and collapses with a grunt. He places Twilight back on the floor and presses a hand on his leg where the sharp pain emerged.

Twilight follows his hand movement and gasps. "You're bleeding." She says, staring at his leg in shock.

Nick glances to his leg to find part of his apron and his trouser leg had been torn, and thick, crimson fluid was building and pouring out of a thin gash down his leg in shallow stream. His palm feels the warmth of the fluid and is coloured red. He looks back into the room and spots the object that had sliced him; a steel wire that was poking out of a cupboard drawer was dripping with his blood.

"Well, sh-oot." Nick says, trying to hide the sharp, inconsistent pain of the deep scratch. He inhales and attempts to stand up, but his leg is in too much pain to stand on its own. He falls onto the wall over Twilight with his leg held, balancing the pressure on his other leg. "I'm sorry, Twilight." Nick grunts. "I can't carry you like this."

"But you did earlier." Twilight responds.

"It must have been the adrenaline of it all." Nick says. "Your scream startled me; I knew I had to make sure you were okay." He pauses, glancing down the corridor. Neither he nor Twilight had realised the crowd of students gathering around and them with curiosity in their gazes, nor could they care. "Do you think you can stand on your own?"

"Of course, I can." Twilight says. "I don't need any human carrying me."

Twilight shakily stands to her hooves, holding her damaged hoof to her chest, and leans against the wall for balance. She slowly limps down the corridor using the wall as leverage, taking each step slowly and steadily.

Nick calls to the crowd gathered in front of her. "Someone give her a hand, she needs to go to the infirmary."

"I don't need any help." Twilight calls out.

Despite Nick's request, not a single person stepped forward out of the crowd. Instead, they all stared in sick curiosity at Twilight's struggling self, with few stepping away from the wall so she could walk by unhindered. Nick shakes his head in anger and hops to Twilight's side. He stops her by placing a hand on her hip, and she flinches at the unexpected touch. He stands her on her hindlegs and throws her pierced hoof over his shoulders despite her efforts to tell him she was fine. With his back arched slightly, and with the weight of Twilight on his leg, he forces himself down the corridor using the wall to steady himself, limping on his bad leg.

"Moróin aineolacha." Nick whispers under his breath, glancing at the watching people. Twilight hears this and sharply looks at Nick, who does not meet her stare and concentrates on exiting the corridor.

Nick strenuously carries Twilight out of the corridor, down the emergency staircase, and slowly onto corridor E to where the infirmary is located near their entrance. The doors to the infirmary are a light blue colour with a red cross in the middle to stand out and is kept open during servicing hours. The room itself is spacious enough to its practice; fitting four single beds with cabinets between each one and a wooden desk, occupied with a computer screen, servicing as the reception near the entrance. Nick leads Twilight to the reception, where they are greeted by one of the few nurses of the university.

"Good morning." The nurse greets with a smile. The name badge on her outfit indicates that the pony is Nurse Redheart. "How can I help you?" She asks before noticing Twilight's blood-stained hoof, and she gasps. "Oh, my goodness." She says, coming out from behind the desk. "That looks serious. We'll get you fixed up in no time." She adds.

"You said it looked fine!" Twilight says to Nick through gritted teeth. Nick shrugs.

Nick removes Twilight's foreleg from around him and Nurse Redheart takes his place, and he leans on the desk. She leads Twilight to a readymade bed and is helped onto the sheets. She sits with her hindlegs dangling off the ledge, pierced hoof facing upwards. She glances to Nick, who nervously glances around the infirmary.

"So, you'll be alright, now, Twilight?" Nick calls.

"I will be now." Twilight answers.

"I'll see you later, then." Nick says and turns to the exit with the intention of leaving.

Nurse Redheart turns to face Nick and notices the blood pouring down his leg. She runs over to him and takes his hand in her hoof before he can leave. "You need seeing to as well." She says, tugging his arm into the room. "I simply cannot allow you to wander the corridors in such a state."

"I'm fine, really." Nick says, tugging back. "It's just a scratch, nothing serious. I'll put a bandage on it and be on my way. You should concentrate on Twilight." He turns sharply and staggers into the doorway, using the frame to hold himself up.

Nurse Redheart rushes to block the exit before he could leave. "I don't think so, young man." She says sternly. She pushes him forcefully into the room, and he is unwillingly lead towards a bed. "You're in far too serious a state to simply require a bandage. Sit down and I'll see to you first."

"I told you, I'm fine." Nick tells her as he is forcefully seated on the bed opposite Twilight.

"And I told you to take a seat." Nurse Redheart tells him with a huff.

"Stop acting like a baby and sit down." Twilight tells him, annoyed at his unnecessary hindrance.

Nick stares at Twilight, taking offense at being slated, and grunts. "Fine." He says, reluctantly. "But make it quick, and painless."

"What is wrong with you?" Twilight asks.

"Nothing." Nick answers sharply. "I just don't want to be here."

"I need to check if the wound is infected, so give me a moment." Nurse Redheart says before stepping away from Nick.

"Your wound will take ages to heal on its own." Twilight says. She stares at Nick and notices him staring at the nurse, shivering from nervousness. "You're afraid of the infirmary, aren't you?"

"What?" Nick says, looking at Twilight. "I'm not afraid of the infirmary."

"Then why are you so nervous?" Twilight asks.

"Nervous?" Nick repeats. "Who's nervous? I'm not nervous. What's wrong with you?"

"Hmph, whatever." Twilight says, turning her head away.

Nick glances back to the nurse, who has opened the door to the medical cabinet and was rummaging through the bottles, clinging and clanging as she does so. He watches her for a while and his thoughts slowly shift to Princess Celestia, and what she expects from him. "I don't know." Nick sighs in avoidance.

"Hmm?" Twilight says, turning to face him.

"I don't know why I'm afraid of this place." Nick says.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Twilight asks.

"I mean what I say." Nick snaps, affected by the nerves. He gulps in hesitation before continuing. "My ma told me I had some trauma in the hospital when I was just a baby, caused me grave anxiety ever since." He pauses for a while, staring into oblivion. "It's not something I want to delve into right now, if that's alright with you." He adds, glancing sharply back to Twilight.

Twilight turns quiet as Nurse Redheart finishes removing and placing what she needs to help disinfect the wounds of both persons on to trolley by her side. She wheels the trolley to Nick's side, and he shoots upright.

"Can't you attend Twilight first?" Nick says, leaning away from her. "She needs your help more."

"Twilight has a more serious case on her hooves." Nurse Redheart says, and Twilight gulps. She removes from its packaging a syringe with a clean, sharp needle at the end. Nick's face drops to a panic upon seeing the point and dramatically winces away. "I'll need more time to deal with her wound. Yours on the other hand is a simple clean-and-spray cut, but first I have to check for any bacteria that may have infect the wound." She places the tip of the needle on the broken flesh, and Nick jumps at the slight prick. "Now relax while I extract some samples for examination."

"Ouch!" Nick yells in pain as the needle is pressed into his wound, and Twilight chuckles at his discomfort.

"You should have relaxed." Nurse Redheart says.

Nurse Redheart squeezes out a few drops of his blood and places the needle on the trolley with the needle hanging over a tray. She then proceeds to wipe the leg wound clean of blood with disinfectant medical wipes. After the wound has been wiped and he is told she is done, she takes the needle and releases only a few drops into a small device that dissects to cells and determines with high accuracy whether it had been infected or not.

"Is that it?" Nick asks. "All that pain for a few drops?"

"It was a slight jab." Nurse Redheart firmly tells him.

"Will you quit your whining." Twilight says. "At least you don't have a nail wedged in your leg."

The device beeps after only a few seconds and Nurse Redheart checks the results. "That's it, you're all clear." She says with a smile. "Let me just spray some, hey!" As soon as she gave him the all-clear, Nick stood up from the bed and was on the verge of running out of the infirmary without a glance back. "Sit back down."

"I thought you said I was done?" Nick says.

"You are." Nurse Redheart answers. "But I can't let you leave without spraying your wound, first. It stops any diseases that may infect the wound."

Nick groans and sits back on the bed. Nurse Redheart takes from the trolley a small spray bottle filled with healing chemicals and hovers the nozzle over the wound. "Yowch!" Nick yells and jumps up and away from the spray in searing pain as the wound is coated in medicine. "What sort of medieval medical methods are you practicing here?" He shouts at her.

"Calm down." Nurse Redheart tells him. "It wasn't even that bad."

"Not that bad?" Nick repeats, twitching his fingers, wanting desperately to scratch the wound. "It stings."

"You'll be fine." Nurse Redheart says, turning away from him and placing the spray bottle back down on the trolley. "And here's a lollipop for being such a good boy."

"Hmph." He says, swiping the lollipop out of her hoof. He unwraps the lollipop, places it into his mouth, and sucks. "I was a good boy, wasn't I." He says with a grin, the stick protruding from his cheek.

Nurse Redheart picks up a long roll of sticky band aids and cuts off a large section to cover up the full size of the wound. With Nick now attended to, she manoeuvres the trolley away from his side to Twilight’s side. She takes Twilight's pierced hoof in her own and examines it closely. "Hmm, looks like it's in pretty deep." Nurse Redheart says to herself.

"Can you get it out?" Twilight asks with worry.

"I can," Nurse Redheart says, "but it won't be easy; you're going to feel a lot of pain." Twilight's face drops and is stricken with fear upon hearing this news. "Or, alternatively, I can give you some sedatives that will ease the pain, but the flavour is very unpleasant."

"Yes!" Twilight hastily says. "Anything to make it hurt less."

"Okay." Nurse Redheart nods. "I'll need to request them from the other nurses." She gently places Twilight's hoof back on her lap and heads to the exit. "I'll be back in a jiffy. Oh, you're free to go, by the way." She adds to Nick and disappears out of the room.

Nick wastes no time and stands up and follows Nurse Redheart towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Twilight asks.

"I'm going to get some breakfast." Nick says, marching towards the exit.

"You're just going to leave me here?" Twilight says. The sound of her fear clear to Nick's hearing, and he stands in the doorway and turns to face her.

"I'm starving, I haven't had anything to eat yet. I'll see you later."

Twilight shouts after him as he disappears and leaves Twilight alone to face her fears.

Episode 2: Part 3 - We Can Talk Later

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Introduction: Part 1 - The Arrival

As the Magnet Train enters the province of South-South-West New York at two hundred miles an hour, Nick turns in his seat to look out over the vastly shining capital from a distance. He rests his arm on the rubber windowsill as he stares out of the crystal clear window at the tremendously populous metropolis shimmering in the brilliant summer sunrays. The tall glass buildings glisten like crystals as the train speeds along on the seemingly levitating tracks as the sea beneath them swims calmly. Two pastel-coloured pegusi fly overhead towards the centre of the city as he gazes upon the pure magnificence of it.

The train swiftly turns on its tracks, bringing three buildings resting on a cliff’s plateau in the nearing distance into view along with the train’s designated station yards away. That must be it, he whispers to himself, the famous university where all intellectual species on Earth gather to advance their education. It looks just like it does on the brochure; magnificent.

His thoughts are interrupted as two children run through the narrow corridor of his carriage, screaming in excitement before entering the next carriage through the automated doors taking the commotion with them. He smiles, amused at their playfulness, and sits forward in his seat. The sewn pad on the folding bench which he was seated gave him comfort for the two and a half hour journey.

Nick looks around the train at the other passengers. The carriage was nearly empty. The only other passengers were in groups at opposite ends, one group of four elderly women and the other of three Equestrian ponies.

Nick could tell the women were born and raised in New York by distinct pronunciations of certain words, their definitive New York accent barely audible over the guitar solo flowing smoothly out of the speakers on the ceiling, of which he recognised the instrumental of a modern song, titled ‘If You Believe My Love’ performed by a soft rock group called Ash’s Worth, filling the train with its harmonious electronic sound; an excellent choice for ambience.

At the other side were the group of ponies. A cerise coated regular stallion and two unicorn mares, one coated cyan blue and the other turquoise, were sitting in the seats near the automatic doors. He recognises their gender by their defined facial features; the male’s snout is straight from forehead to nose, while the females’ is more rounded and consists of an inward curve flicking at the end. Along with facial features, they can also be differentiated by their height; the regular mare stands half of that to an average, fully grown male human while a stallion is between the two. Young teenage ponies, fillies and colts, are approximately half the height of younger teenagers while the foals are the same size as babies, of who consistently outgrow the ponies throughout their lifespan. It’s by these distinct definitions that humans can easily identify the two genders and various aging stages without the need for interaction.

The ponies’ bright, vibrant coloured coats illuminate the carriage like an alexandrite gemstone. The group gave no acknowledgement of the elders’ presence.

Sitting within earshot of the four elders, Nick overhears the gossip spreading between them. They constantly criticise the ponies on the train, every now and then glancing over their shoulders at the group before snickering and continuing their insults from under the safety of their outrageously fitting hats. He watches the ponies as they laugh and enjoy their time travelling together on the train, oblivious to the elders’ remarks.

Before long, the music dies down and an announcement makes itself clear through the speakers.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Fillies and Colts, we will be arriving shortly at the last stop on the 975 Line to Marigold Station located on the outskirts of New York.” The robotic speaker announces. “We at Magnetica Incorporation hope you enjoyed the journey to your destination and are looking forward to ensuring your safe travel with us in the near future. We highly advise you remain seated until the vehicle has come to a complete stop at the designated station. Thank you for your cooperation.” The speaker crackles before shutting off and replaying the rest of the previous song.

Nick stands up, ignoring the recommendation, and walks towards the doors of the train. He waits in front of the doors holding onto the handrail above and feels the train start to decrease its velocity. He looks through the window in the doors to find the train now running on solid ground, still following its tracks. He leans forward to look below the train at the naturally green grass rushing past in a blur.

He catches sight of himself obscured on the reflective alloy surrounding the door; his blindingly white, neatly ironed shirt collaborates with his worn out jeans. His medium length brown hair neatly cut and freshly prepared for the day ahead. He gives it a quick rummage to ensure a more natural look and spots the chain around his neck glinting faintly. He pulls the back of his shirt’s collar to conceal it.

The speakers now silent, it takes only a few seconds for the train to come to a complete stop at the station. The doors slide open letting the late morning sun flow into the carriage and immediately pours a wave of heat and excitement onto the train.

He steps onto the outdoor platform and looks around the beautifully gold encrusted station. The platform itself was overwhelmed with energy from the two races of humans and ponies. The noise level was reminiscent to that of a hundred buzzing bees in a botanical garden, humming furiously for their share of the pollen. The feeling of being surrounded by life gives Nick an exhilarated feeling.

Eager to go, he walks along the edge of the platform and waits by the luggage compartment for it to open. It does so, hissing as its dual doors slide away from each other and enter their purposefully designed slots at the side. The coolness from inside the chamber almost immediately hits Nick’s face making him shiver. He ducks in to search for his rucksack and, pushing the few other bags and cases aside, finds the cylindrical bag and pulls it out. He swings it over his head and rests the strap diagonally on his shoulder. He adjusts it to bear a more comfortable state before making a beeline towards the station’s exit, swerving around the groups of humans and ponies in his way.

He stands in the line at the exit, waiting patiently to be served. He peers down the line to find three humans and two ponies in front of him, all waiting to be served by a masculine man trapped within the confines of a small security booth.

Waiting for the line to shorten, Nick looks around the station at the people and ponies. The majority of the crowd were humans. They outnumber the ponies three to one at best. It’s what’s to be expected on a planet solely inhabited by humans for thousands of centuries. There’s no getting rid of them, he jokingly remarks in thought.

As the line advances, he notices guards at the exit. Two winged white coated ponies were leaning against the wall, bantering to each other, subtly watching the comings and goings of visitors through the entrance. The armour they wear, gold plated and heavy complete with comb glinting in the sunlight, covers their neck and back as well as head and torso. Propped in their foreleg were spears; sharp daggers welded to the ends of thin iron rods, standing a foot or two above the tips of their helmets - effective and intimidating despite being simple. The sight of the weaponry gives Nick a sense of nervousness. He always feels anxious when an area is guarded, even when he has nothing to fear.

“Identification, please.” The gatekeeper seated in front of a computer screen professionally demands as Nick walks up to the glass office which encases him.

Nick unzips the pocket on the strap of his satchel and removes a USB device stating his business. He places it on the desk and slides it through the narrow gap under the window. The gatekeeper takes the device and inserts it into a slot at the side of his screen and waits for the content to load. As they both wait, Nick occupies himself by prying his eyes around the booth.

It was a small room, no larger than ten feet at most. Placed at the middle window where Nick stood was a desk with a computer screen situated on it. At the side of the screen sits a rare potted daffodil plant happily viewing everyone exiting the station. Underneath the plant was a stack of papers to give it a little boost. At the corner was a mug filled with pens, pencils and various other stationary equipment. On the back wall hangs a small photo of an aerial view of bordered farmlands. The individual lands were different shades of green indicating the livestock and crops situated in each field. He wonders where it was located so decides to break the silence between them.

“That photo on the wall,” Nick asks, indicating the picture, “where is that?”

The gatekeeper slowly swivels around to look at the only picture hanging on the wall. He smiles to himself before returning to stare at the screen.

“That’s my home,” he explains, “for now at least.”

“You’re a farmer?”

“Not anymore.” He shakes his head, a hint of sadness in his tone.

“What happened?” Nick asks, sensing his sorrow.

“Long story short,” he sighs, “my career ended when my partner passed away.”

“Oh…” Nick exclaims as a wave of sympathy flow over him. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He adds with sincerity. Despite wanting only to know its location, he thought it best to show a little commiseration.

“Thanks. I do miss her and I’d give anything to have her back.” He shakes his head in remorse. “After she departed, the farm went downhill very quickly.” He double clicks mouse button and skims through the onscreen information. “I was unable to tend to the farm alone and I wasn’t making enough cash to hire any help.”

“Ouch.” Nick winces. “Sounds like an unfortunate series of events.”

“It’s not all bad.” He says, brightening his tone. “The university has offered me a job and a place closer to work. I’ll be selling everything; the farm, the house, the barn, the animals, everything that bore great memories. It’s going to tear a large hole in my heart, that’s for sure.”

“Do you enjoy working here, for the university?”

“In some cases, it certainly beats sweating my ass off in the fields. I get two days off a week where I can have a little luxury to myself, twenty days paid holiday and a cosy little abode to rest in the evening. Would I like to go back to working the farm? Sure I would. I’d give anything to have my old life back. But I couldn’t do it without my partner.” He removes the device from the screen and slides it back under the glass to Nick. “But she’s never coming back.”

“I see.” Nick nods as he grabs his device and places it back in his pocket and zips it up. “I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your partner.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s in a better place now.” He waves his arm to say move along. “Welcome to the University of Earth, Nicholas Galluver.”

Nick cringes hearing his surname pronounced incorrectly but doesn’t bring it to attention. He shifts his rucksack into a more comfortable position and exits the station through the waist high turnstile.

He makes his way down the ramp, steps onto the dirt path and walks towards a fork in the road. He stops at the fork and inhales the fresh countryside air. He faces up and closes his eyes as the wind delicately breezes through his hair with the warmth of the sun bouncing off his face. The sound of playful laughter encourages him to open his eyes.

He stares at the marble water fountain placed in the middle of the triangular divergent. The statue on top depicts a playful pony standing on a single hind leg atop a circular object, its mouth agape as the eyes stare lifelessly towards the university, a few young ponies and humans were playing in the cool water surrounding it dressed in water-resistant garments. They joyfully splash each other without a care in the world.

Looking to his right, Nick spots the mansion-like building a few hundred feet away at the peak of the hill along with two smaller buildings on either side; both encased in glass, one building situated south east and the other south west. They glimmer like the buildings in the Big Apple, modern and separate from the primitive-style of the university itself. It was a sight only told in stories.

The grounds were full of variously sized groups of students scattered, loitering and enjoying their brief time in the late-summer sun. He overhears three older students comically banter about the children playing in the fountain as they pass.

Nick walks past the fountain, taking the path leading up the hill towards the four storey building. He trails a young girl joyfully skipping in the same direction. He guesses the child to be in her early childhood. She calls to her friends and breaks into a jog towards the left side of the main building before heading up the path alongside it.

Nick stops a few feet from the steps and looks up at the ancient building towering over him. Wall mounted flagpoles, complete with flags bearing the insignias of the university’s symbol, consisting of outlines of a human and pony in front of a navy shield on a maroon coloured background, and the emblem of New York City, protrude outwards from the building. The balcony above built over the main entrance was occupied by students looking out towards the skyline and scanning the grounds.

He turns his head to face the sign situated a few feet to his left. Upon the sign wrote the words ‘WELCOME TO THE UNIVERSITY OF EARTH’. He looks back at the entrance and takes a deep breath before walking up the steps and through the middle of the three open doorways.

Entering the manor, he is greeted by a perfuming fragrance of cherry and almond as if someone left the door to the dessert cupboard open. Directly above him was a balcony surrounding the hall, held aloft by pillars in both lower corners. The balconies outside can be accessed from these platforms.

The main hall was almost completely void of life. Walking along the balconies on both sides were a few humans and ponies, visible to Nick through the wooden bars of the railings. Above the statue centred a few feet behind the reception was a pegasus flying around in circles. He watches in satisfaction until another pegasus hovers from the balcony towards her, verbally tells her to land with him and takes her by the hoof.

Nick walks over to the half oval desk situated near the entrance. To the right of the desk swirls a holographic map showing the university, a mansion in the shape of a plus, and the area surrounding it in a circular platted radar slowly spinning on its axis. The base of the structure bore a technical control panel for use of the map.

The receptionist, a middle-aged orchard coated pony wearing a white collar with a black bowtie, was seated in a swivel chair on the right side typing away on a highly sophisticated keyboard designed specifically for hooves. Nick coughs to grab her attention. She looks up from the screen over her thick, purple spectacles at him.

“Good morning.” Nick greets. “I’ve arrived for a scheduled meeting with Deputy Norma Hook.”

She stares at him, seemingly examining him, before emitting a creepy grin and bobbing her head to the side indicating the human receptionist further along to the left. He looks over to see her attending to another visitor who had entered after him. He smirks and nods at the pony and stands behind the second visitor.

“May I help you?” The receptionist asks Nick as the guest walks away.

“Yes you may.” Nick smirks walking up. He leans on the glass-topped desk and stares at her, her face as smooth as a tempered milky quartz stone. Her jade embedded eyes glint refreshingly back. “I was wondering if I could use your desk phone.” She stares at him in confusion. “My ma told me to phone her when I found someone to rival the radiant beauty of a perfectly cut emerald.”

She laughs hysterically leaning back on her chair at his attempt to charm her. Nick exhales a sharp, passive laugh as he squints an eye.

“Not a chance.” She says, returning to her serious state and wiping her coal black hair over her shoulder before typing on her keyboard. Nick glances at her fingers as they speed across the keyboard with lightning fast dexterity. “Now how can I help you?”

“I have a meeting with Deputy Norma Hook.” he repeats, copying her serious tone.

“Hoping to enrol?” She asks as she maintains her typing speed. Nick nods. “You must be pretty special if they accept you this close to the start of the semester. You must be Nicholas?” He nods again. “Mrs. Hook is expecting you in room J-6 on the second floor in the west section of the building. You can find it by walking up the left staircase behind the statue and turning right at the top, through the set of doors and out onto the balcony of the courtyard. Immediately turn left and into the west wing onto a corridor of which Mrs. Hook’s room is located near.” She looks up to Nick, who searches behind the statue for the stair set. “You got that, or do I have to repeat it?” She asks.

He shakes his head. “Nope, I got it.”

“Alright. I’ll notify her of your arrival immediately.”

“Thank you, miss...”

“Hartman,” She says, “but call me Vicky. I don’t like all that formal garbage.”

“Vicky...” He repeats. “Short for Victoria, I presume?” She nods. “Thank you, Vicky.” He winks before making his way towards the back staircase.

Vicky shakes her head in disregard as she watches him carry his rucksack with ease around the reception desk. She continues with her work when her associate uninvitingly slides over. The pony looks around to ensure Nick was out of earshot and, finding him moseying past the statue, leans in and whispers.

“He’s pretty handsome, don’t you think?”

“He sure is, Grace.” Vicky politely replies, still concentrating on her screen.

Grace jovially nudges her. Vicky faces her to catch her raising her eyebrows facetiously. It takes Vicky a moment to realise what she was implying before laughing sarcastically.

“You’re serious?” She asks regaining seriousness before turning back to her screen.

“You’re not going to stay young forever, you know. By the time Julian returns, you’ll have aged.”

“I’ll wait an eternity if it means staying with Julian.” She turns to Grace. “Why do you have such a grudge against him, anyway?”

“I think he’s a bad influence on you. You were charming and polite when you were young, you had a bright future ahead of you. That was until Julian arrived on the scene.”

“And what am I now?”

“You come across rude and arrogant, as if you don’t care about the world, about your future. As if Julian will take care of all your problems. The perfect example just a few moments ago with that guy.”

“Hey, he was coming on to me. I had to defend myself, even if it meant a rude approach.”

“At least consider it. I think he’s a better role model to hang around.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He has this… I don’t know, this special aura about him. I can’t quite explain it.”

“I think I’ll stick to a more realistic view, if you don’t mind.”

Grace shrugs. “Suit yourself. I still expect you to act professional around visitors, though. You are still in training, after all.” She adds before sliding back to her side of the desk.

Vicky silently mimics Grace’s voice in an insolent manner. She glances over her shoulder at Nick to find him ascending the stairs and sighs before helping another customer with a forced smile.

Introduction: Part 2 - A Little Bit of Acknowledgement

Nick looks up to inspect the stone statue of a human and pony standing on top of a short cylindrical platform, both facing towards the entrance. The man held aloft his left hand clenched in a fist as his right hand rests on the head of his companion, while the stallion wore a bandana around his neck. Both beings had the expression of pride etched onto their faces. Surrounding them were decorative flowers neatly arranged in an equilateral isometric pattern, before them lay benches occupied by a filly conversing with an older human student.

Nick walks past the statue and heads up the staircase behind and to the left of it. Two ponies were descending them at the same time; a unicorn coated bright blue with her mane and tail a similar colour with a white streak flowing through, and a regular pony coated cream which superbly matched her blue and pink curled mane and tail.

He also recognises the Cutie Marks on their rears. Every Equestrian pony at a young age earns one of these so called ‘Cutie Marks.’ The reasoning behind these obscure marks are unknown and only relevant to the individual it belongs to. The regular pony’s Cutie Mark consists of three pieces of candy wrapped in yellow and blue striped wrappers. The unicorn’s was of a golden stringed instrument he identifies as a lyre, or at least a simplistic variation. He wonders what they represent.

As they walk by, he overhears the conversation between them.

“‘… too busy to go’, he says.” The unicorn says.

“What does he mean, ‘too busy’?” The other asks. “When has he ever been busy?”

“I know, right? I doubt he’ll even finish before the deadline. Can you believe he even…”

She cuts off as they walk out of earshot. He reaches the top of the stairs and turns around to find them walking towards the entrance and leave. He continues following Vicky’s directions, taking a right at the top of the stairs and through the set of double doors which leads him onto a balcony enclosing a courtyard. He immediately turns left and enters through another set of doors onto a corridor.

The corridor was occupied with pots of plastic tropical plants from far off regions of the world and paintings of historical figures and ancient landmarks alternating between the doors. One painting in particular catches his eye; an archaic castle surrounded by a lustrous lake and luxuriant grassy fields. The plaque underneath entitles it ‘Fort William – Isle of Skye, Scotland.’ Off to the side, the sun is seen shining through broken clouds onto three pillars of rock peaks as if indicating something rich and unique had been buried between them. He could imagine four Hobbits and a ranger camping between the three spires of rock, shielding themselves from view of pursuing dark riders.

He grins at his mind’s ability to reference a century old novel before heading down the corridor to room J-6. Finding the room on the left, he knocks on the door and waits patiently for an invitation to enter. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Come in!” He hears an elderly woman sing from inside.

He places a hand on the bronze handle and pushes it. The door slides a few inches before stopping suddenly as if being blocked by something. He places his shoulder to the door and pushes with might. The sound of scraping could be heard as he opens it to its fullest. He steps into the room to realise its size is larger than the viewpoint depicts on the outside with it only being three or four feet away from the doors at either side.

The dusty scent of cardboard immediately penetrates his nasal cavities despite the windows at the back being open. There was a slight breeze entering through them as indicated by the blinds gently flailing. Everything that had been decorating this room was now placed in cardboard boxes scattered about the floor and piled on top of each other. A cluttered desk near the back is the only conspicuous object.

The walls were plain and stained; no wallpaper hung on them, only bricks gave the wall form as the only barrier between this room and the outside. The half carpeted floor, covered in dust piles, had rips in it showing the bare wooden planks keeping the floor stable. The ceiling was becoming discoloured in patches and leaking. The pendant lamp merely hangs by a loose wire in the centre of the room, swinging ever so slightly with the breeze from the open window covered by mucky blinds behind the desk, cooling the room in the blazing summer heat.

Nick looks over to the desk to find it full of unorganised papers upon papers and folders within folders. An old fashioned desk lamp is placed at the corner of the desk, while at the other side sat a world globe. Further in sat an idle fan, its blades now a dust collector, pointing toward the back. He glances over the desk and makes eye contact with a woman seated behind it. She stares back over her half-circular spectacles before addressing him.

“Please excuse the mess.” She says, waving an arm around indicating the boxes. “Take a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.” She adds before continuing to write on a sheet of paper.

Nick squeaks the door shut, finding sealed boxes behind the door, and walks towards a steel folding chair placed in front of the desk, stepping over the boxes in his path. He removes his rucksack and places it on the floor at the side of the seat. As he sits down on the torture-device of an excuse for a chair, the steel seat gives him a sharp shock as if he’d sat on a pin. He sits upright and waits patiently for the woman, who he presumes is Norma, to finish her deeds. He occupies himself by further examining the desktop globe.

The globe itself was coloured differently to that of a common Earth globe. It had a single large island coloured deep red with the rest in crystal blue. The stand it rests on bears the name ‘Nibiru – The Twelfth Planet’. From what Nick could remember, Nibiru is inhabited by a race of beings known as Nibirans; tall, human like beings with no acknowledgement of anything outside their home planet, being classed as a ‘pre-warp species’ by their discoverers almost a hundred years prior to today.

“Sorry about that,” Norma says, interrupting his thoughts, “we’ve just started packing.” She ducks under her desk and pulls out a drawer. She removes a modern laptop, sufficiently named H2, places it on the table and opens it up. “You must be Mr. Galluver, correct?”

Nick cringes at her mispronunciation. “Gal-you-ver, ma’am.” He corrects her. “Prolong the U.”

“That’s right.” She says, typing on the laptop. “I’m Norma Hook.” She announces. “I’m the deputy headmistress here at the University of Earth. But you already know that, I’m sure.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nick answers.

She waves her hand in front of her screen. “Useless garbage.” She mumbles under her breath before furiously slamming the laptop shut. “Can’t get nothing to work.” Nick tries not to chuckle at her misfortune but can’t help a cheeky grin. She firmly places the laptop back into the drawer and closes it. “So, Mr. Galluver,” she starts as if nothing happened, picking up sheets of paper and sorting through them, “allow me to recap what we already know.” Nick nods. “You chose the University of Earth to become a musical producer apprentice, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you understand that the course will be for two years minimum, beginning and ending with the semesters?” Nick nods. “Alright, now that we’re on the same wave of thought, allow me to remind you about some university policies. The university’s curfew begins at eleven and ends at six thirty. You must be inside your living quarters during curfew. Anyone caught wandering the corridors or grounds by our prefects during these times will be escorted immediately to their rooms and given a written warning. Get caught a second time and you’ll be dealt with suitable disciplinary action.”

“Understood.” Nick nods.

“Right. Like in the more respectable provinces of the States, the university has no tolerance for any antisocial behaviour towards students or teachers of any race. This includes bullying, harassment, unfriendly banter and injury from both first and third parties. Any such disturbances will result in an immediate temporary suspension and further discipline depending on the impact on the victim. Do you understand?”

Nick nods again. “I have no problems with any race.” He states.

“Good. Glad to hear. Moving on to uniforms, they will be provided courtesy of the university: this includes shirts, trousers and shoes which must be worn at all times during studying hours and an optional jumper for the wintry seasons. The rest you will have to provide yourself. Any questions?”

“When will I receive the uniform?” Nick asks.

“It will be ready for you when you enter your room.”

“And my room…?”

“Is on the west side of the building.”

“It’s all ready available?”

“Not quite. We still have to input you into our systems which shouldn’t be too long, usually an hour or so after accepting.”

“Great. I believe that’s all for now.”

“Okay.” She skims through a sheet of paper. “Before we address you, do you know anything the university?”

“Only what I’ve read, ma’am. Beginning construction in twenty fourteen by one man and his Equine companion, the now university’s main focus was to bring humanity and the Equestrians closer together with the main result focusing on peace between the two species. Since its opening a year later, all mannerisms of creatures have been housed here, from humans to Equestrians and buffalos to griffons. The university wasn’t arranged until years after the passing of the idealists, who heart-numbingly passed away hand in hoof.”

“You’ve certainly done your homework.” She chuckles. “Alright, now about you. From what I understand, you’re one of the, forgive me if I pronounce this wrong, ‘Tuatha dé Danann’?”

“Twa’ha day Dannah, ma’am,” Nick corrects her, “and yes, I am.” He pauses before adding, “But I don’t expect any special treatment because of it.”

“Oh, nonono, of course not.” She replies, flailing a hand flamboyantly. “Every intellectual being here is treated with equality. I just need reminding which race that is.” Norma rests her head, placing her chin in her dovetailing hands. “Would you mind elaborating for me?”

“Of course not. The Tuatha dé Danann,” he begins, “are a race of human-like beings from the planet Pinga Ra-Tan, situated within the neighbouring solar system, Aos-Sí.”

“Ayth-She?” Norma pronounces. “The system that’s home to the inhabitable dwarf planet Inrahma?”

“Imrahma, ma’am, with an ‘M’. Inrahma is the satellite that circles Imrahma.”

“Ah, my mistake, carry on.”

“Naturally born,” Nick continues, “we’re nurtured into believing our whole existence is provided to us by our deity, Mother-Goddess Danu, who will one day, if we’ve proven our worth, send a horse rider, Niamh, to retrieve us from our mortal embodiment and lead us to Tír na nÓg where we’ll spend the rest of our time under Danu’s adoring reign. Our civilisation wasn’t as technologically advanced until humanity so called ‘discovered’ us. We combined our expressed knowledge of construction and advancement to build many structures that are still in use today.”

“That’s right.” Norma says. “If I recall correctly, you’re the race that can control magick, right?”

“Yes, but only a selective few can wield the force of magick. Similar to the Equestrian ponies how only unicorns can produce magick and pegusi can fly.”

“Are you one of them?”

“A pegasus? No.” He jokes, laughing out loud. Norma, impassive from his little quip, removes her hands from her chin. Still retaining his grin, he says, “Yes, I can control magick.”

“Interesting, interesting indeed.”Norma says with a hint of excitement in her voice. “Can I get a preview?”

“I should inform you that using magick for showmanship and selfishness is frowned upon by our bestower, Morrigu,” he explains, “and reduces our chances of being accepted into the afterlife. Not to mention it mentally drains us if we use too much.” He pauses for a bit. “But I suppose a quick example couldn’t hurt too much.”

He extends his arm, giving it a quick shake, and holds out his hand. His palm facing upwards, he concentrates. The pendant lamp above turns itself on and starts pulsating dimly in a steady rhythm. Norma watches with anticipation. After a brief moment, a crack of energy shoots from the lamp into his palm followed by a quick crash of thunder making Norma jolt in surprise. Nick smiles at her reaction as he holds up his hand. In his hand swirls a single stroke of blue electricity entrapped inside a transparent ellipsoid every few seconds shooting out short lengths of itself in order to escape. Intrigued at seeing pure electricity up close, Norma leans in and holds her glasses to her eyes.

“Fascinating!” She exclaims. “Never in my fifty-six years have I seen something this remarkable.”

Nick nods, agreeing with her statement.

“Just watch yourself, ma’am.” He says as he withdraws his hand. “This part can be unpredictable.”

Norma leans back into the chair as Nick readies to release the bolt. He takes a deep breath before swiftly closing his hand breaking the encasement. Luckily for Norma the charge finds its way into the palm of its beholder. He jerks for a second, stiffening up, and clenches his fist tighter before returning to his previous state.

He flicks his head from side to side, rubbing his neck. “Ugh, I hate when that happens.” He says.

“Are you all right?” Norma concerns.

“I’m fine, no need to worry. There wasn’t enough charge to do some damage but it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry to have to put you through that.” She adds in earnest.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Alright, shall we move on?” Nick nods. “There’s something else I’m fascinated about, this ‘tear na noog’ place, what is it exactly?”

“It’s similar to the Christian Heaven,” Nick answers, “but our belief is far more practical than a mystical place above the clouds. It roughly translates to ‘Land of Youth’ which is a highly accurate statement.” Nick leans back and stares at the corner of the ceiling. “Tír na nÓg is a vast, exhaustive land of green plains, mountainous regions, sparkling lakes, hazardous wasteland, scorching hot deserts, abysmal caves and limitless blue skies. Its rich and exuberant land is plenty bountiful and generous. The fruit on the tree never run out. The lakes and rivers never run dry. The festivals held are tremendous and last for days on end. It’s a wondrous place to relieve one’s self after living a mortal life.” Nick sighs at the beauty of the imaginative land.

“Do you believe in such tales?”

Nick faces back to her, insulted that she would think otherwise. “Of course I do. We all do, just like the Norse believe in Valhalla or the Buddhists in their Nirvana.”

“I see.” She says, oblivious to his sour tone. She reaches into her drawer once more and pulls out a folder jam-packed of papers. She places the folder on her desk and opens it. “So, Mr. Galluver, we already stated that you’ve applied to become an apprentice here. May I ask why that is?”

“It was actually recommended by my previous tutor who told me this is the place to go.” Nick answers, losing his negative attitude. “I also heard it’s a university that provides excellent educational services for its students. Not to mention it’s highly regarded as the best by Equestria Daily. You don’t earn that status for nothing, especially by E.D.”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember receiving an e-mail from the professor. He spoke highly of your… you know, stating you were one of the best in class.”

“Thank you.” Nick says, his confidence boosting a little. “I’ll have to thank him next time I see him.”

She picks up half the pile of papers and places them at the side. She then looks at her watch and gasps at the time.

“Is that the time? I’m afraid we’ve lingered a little too much in this meeting. I have other important tasks to attend. We’ll just skip to the end, if you don’t mind?” She flicks through the rest of the papers until she finds the sheet she needs. “Ah, here we are.” She says. She quickly scans the paper before handing it over to Nick. “Just need you to sign at the bottom for me.”

“What is it?” Nick asks as he takes it.

“It’s just confirmation that you agree to our terms and conditions and that you understand the rules and regulations provided to ensure a safe and stress free environment.” She explains. She holds out a pen for Nick to use. “Usually we do this on the computer, but the hopeless thing’s not working. I’ll have to redirect it to the IT technician later.”

Nick reaches over and takes the pen. He scans the paper but finds the words blurred. He’d equip his reading glasses but remembers he forgot them at his parents’ house. He clicks the pen and places the point on the dotted line where it needed to be signed. Before he’s able to do so, he hears a knock from behind him. He turns around as Norma answers it.

“Come in!” She sings.

They watch as the door creaks open to a young mare standing in the doorway waiting for an invitation to enter.

“Please, come in.” Norma calls over.

The mare enters and walks towards them, manoeuvring around the boxes. As she nears, Nick identifies her as a purple coated unicorn, her straight mane and tail coloured dark blue with a purple stripe down the middle. Around her body hangs a strap bag with pockets on either side, empty from the way it moves.

As she passes he catches a glimpse of her Cutie Mark on her flank which consists of a light purple hexagonal star surrounded by five smaller stars coloured white. Again, he’s curious as to what it represents.

“Princess Celestia has asked me to retrieve her parcel.” She says upon reaching the side of Norma’s desk.

Norma nods. She stands up from her chair and walks towards the blind covered window, her white flowery dress flowing behind her. Her sparkling silver high heels give her a height advantage. It’s a wonder how she misses the gaps between the floorboards without looking. She holds the blinds out of the way and picks up a small box placed on the windowsill before returning with it in hand. She glances over to Nick.

“Twilight, this is Nick.” She introduces, holding the package before Twilight. “He arrived this morning. He’ll be studying here as an apprentice under Anita.”

Twilight doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, she uses her horn to take the parcel out of Norma’s hand. Nick watches as her horn and the parcel glow dark pink and float towards her. She unbuttons her satchel and places the box within it.

“The Princess sends her regards.” Twilight says before curtsying hesitantly and turns to leave. She makes eye contact with Nick who smiles amiably back, her eye level a little lower than his own while seated.

“Twilight.” He tips his imaginary hat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”

Twilight replies with a grunt and grudgingly walks past him. Nick turns to watch her tread around the boxes. She makes it to the door and, without a glimpse back, closes it behind her. The door clicks shut, leaving Nick and Norma alone once more. Nick turns back to face Norma.

“I’m sorry for Twilight’s behaviour.” she says. “She doesn’t–”

“Like humans?” He cuts her off, already knowing the answer.

Norma nods “I’m not entirely sure why. She doesn’t talk to me. Practically has nothing to do with me. That’s the most interaction I get from her, when she needs something.”

“So the Princess is here too?”

“She is. I haven’t had a chance to give her a greeting yet. Finished with the papers?” She asks, moving the subject along.

Nick looks down at the sheet to find it unsigned. He quickly jots his signature down and hands the pen and paper back. Norma takes them and nods as she places the sheet on top of the pile of papers. She picks up the papers and places them in the folder with the rest and closes it before placing it back in the drawer.

“Just one more thing.” She holds out a wired electronic device with a black touchpad. “Just place your thumb on the pad. In the middle.” He does so and it scans his print, beeping when it ends. She places it back on the desk.

“There, all done.” She announces sitting back up again. “Welcome to the University of Earth, Mr. Galluver. We hope your stay will feel welcomed and enlightened as you study in our wake. Do you have any questions before you go?”

“Just one more.” Nick answers. “You said my room is available when I accept. When will I receive information about it?”

She clicks her fingers and points to him. “That reminds me.”

She stands up and walks around the table and towards a box near the entrance. She rummages through it murmuring to herself before withdrawing a miniscule quadrate object and returning to her seat. She pulls on the adjacent metal corners to extend its screen size and turns it on. The transparent screen flickers and beeps before retaining the familiar home screen. She taps the pad and the common interface flicks on screen. She then holds it over the desk and entices Nick to take it.

“This is a portable multifunctional touchpad.” She explains as Nick takes the device. “It’s customary to accustom students over a certain age who start their first educated year here with one of these provisional devices. It’s easily operable and capable of being stored on your person, which I suggest you do at all times. The pad has various applications which you’ll find most useful such as a navigational map, a call directory and emergency services. I would suggest you take note of your schedule when received via message. This will only be provided for the first six months, however. At the start of the new year it will be returned.”

“I understand.” Nick confirms. He looks down at the pad and, holding it at a certain distance, navigates around the home screen.

The common design of the screen has everything Norma had listed plus more. From intranet access to customization settings, media players and social networking, the pad has everything one could desire. The price of this device must have cost an arm and a leg.

While Norma quickly scribbles on a sheet of paper, Nick finds the map application by its symbol and taps it which opens up to a three-dimensional grid of the university’s interior design. Three buttons to the side indicate which floor can be viewable. He taps and slides his fingers across the screen in experimentation to the limits of the map. He slides it, scrolls it, tilts it and enlarges it. The map is pretty accurate as far as he could see, from the reception on the ground floor to Norma’s office on the first. He spots an arrow pointing to a room which he recognises as Norma’s office; his current location. He taps the arrow and the screen smoothly glides the office to the centre of the screen. How technical to know your location at any given time. He taps the close option at the top of the screen and looks up at Norma.

“You never did answer my question.” He says, breaking the silence. “When will I receive information about my room?”

“You have our pad, so we should be able to contact you when your apartment is available which should be, as I said earlier, before too long.” She quickly scribbles some more. “In the meantime,” she continues, “why don’t you introduce yourself to the headmistress of the Equestrians, Miss Mayor Mare? I’m sure she’ll appreciate your greeting. She’s in the eastern wing of the university, room number Q-13. Return to the courtyard and head straight across the balcony through the double doors, down the corridor and take a left at the end. Miss Mare’s room is halfway down the corridor. If you get lost you can use the map on the pad. Just tap the room and it’ll tell you the number.” She looks at Nick who stares into oblivion trying to contain the information. “You got that?”

Nick nods. “Thank you, ma’am.” He stands up, minimizes the pad and places it in his jeans pocket. He grabs his rucksack and brushes off the dust clinging to it.

“You can leave that here if you like; take some weight off your shoulders. I’ll have my assistant take it up to your room once it’s ready.”

“Thank you again, ma’am.” He leans his bag on the side of the desk. “With your permission, I take my leave.” He bows before turning and heads for the door, stepping over the boxes.

Norma watches as he exits the room, shutting the door behind him. She scribbles the rest of what she needed to before placing them back in the folder and into the drawer. She picks up her mobile from the desk and spins in her chair to face the window. She inputs the number for her assistant and places it against her ear.

As the phone rings, she feels an unusual sensation as if someone had just entered the room. She swivels back around, shifting her eyes around the room. Finding she’s alone, she shakes her head and turns back around.

“What a strange ambience.” She whispers to herself as her assistant answers the call.

Author's Note

Edit as of 9th June 2019:
~ Changed music technology apprentice to music producer apprentice.
~ Inserted the sentence, "I would suggest you take note of your schedule when received via message."